THE 


HOUSEHOLD  ANGEL  IN  DISGUISE 


MRS.  MADELINE  LESLIE. 


NEW    YORK: 
HURST    &    COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS. 


Entered,  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

A  .      E  .      <*  A  K  E  R  , 
1.4  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  w>urt  for  the  District  of  Massachusetts 


Stjjfs  Volume 

IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF 

REV.    LEONARD    WOODS,    D.    D. 

OF  ANDOVKR.  MASS., 

MY  LAMENTED  FATHER,  IN  TESTIMONY 

OF  MY  GRATITUDE  FOR  III3  INVALUABLE  INSTRUCTION  AND  EXAMPLE 

WHICH   DEEPLY   IMPRESSED   MY   YOUTHFUL   MIND   WITH  TUB 

MANNER  IN  WHICH  PIETY  MULTIPLIES  AND  SWEETENS 

THE    JOYS   OF    DOMESTIC    LIFB. 


2OG1925 


THE  HOUSEHOLD  ANGEL  IN  DISGUISE. 


CHAPTER   I. 

"  Let  me  live  amongst  high  thoughts  and  smiles, 
As  beautiful  as  love  ;  with  grasping  hands, 
And  a  heart  that  flutters  with  diviner  life 
When  e'er  my  step  is  heard." — Proctor. 

ON  a  slight  eminence,  in  front  of  which  lay  a  smooth 
lawn,  uninterrupted  except  by  rows  of  aged  elms  that  met 
over  the  avenue  in  a  loving  embrace,  stood  a  large  stone 
mansion.  Directly  opposite  the  front  entrance,  and 
about  three  rods  distant,  was  a  spacious  gateway  with 
immense  stone  posts,  and  an  arch  over  it  from  which 
hung  a  ponderous  lamp.  Advancing  up  the  avenue,  be- 
fore named,  about  two  thirds  of  the  distance  to  the 
house,  were  carriage  drives  turning  to  the  right  and  left, 
and  winding  around  to  the  rear  of  the  building.  The 
house  itself  was  an  irregular  structure,  with  here  awing, 
and  there  a  luthern,  or  a  bow  window ;  but  altogether 
it  formed  a  pleasing  scene,  and  was  not  without  some 
claims  even  to  artistic  beauty. 

The  owner  of  this  mansion  was  Mr.  Hugh  Stanley, 
who  had  accompanied  his  father  from  the  North  of 
England  to  the  United  States  when  a  lad  of  t^n  years 
of  age.  Mr.  Stanley  the  elder,  purchased  a  large  tract 

V  5 


(j  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

'of  land  in  Queenstown  on  the  banks  of  the  Hadson, 
where  he  erected  this  noble  dwelling,  which  at  his  death 
fell  into  Ihe  possession  of  his  son  and  only  heir.  From 
a  large  and  beautiful  grove  of  Linden  trees  in  the  rear 
of  the  house,  the  estate  had  early  been  called  Linden- 
wood.  By  its  elevation,  it  commanded  an  extensive 
view  of  the  surrounding  country ;  and  by  its  rare  natu- 
ral scenery  and  numerous  embellishments,  delighted  the 
eye  of  the  many  travellers  along  that  majestic  river. 

Mr.  Hugh  Stanley  was  educated  for  the  bar,  but  had 
never  practised  law  except  as  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and 
in  cases  of  minor  importance  in  his  own  neighborhood. 
Being  of  a  reserved  and  quiet  temperament,  and  pos- 
sessed of  a  handsome  fortune,  he  had  heretofore  occupied 
himself  with  the  care  of  his  estate.  His  family  consist- 
ed of  three  daughters,  Gertrude,  Emma  and  Edith ;  and 
one  son,  a  feeble  child  nine  years  of  age.  There  was 
also  a  young  girl  named  Alice,  a  foster-sister  of  Edith, 
who  spent  most  of  her  time  at  the  Hall ;  her  widowed 
mother  living  at  the  end  of  the  park. 

An  addition  had  lately  been  made  to  the  family  in  the 
persons  of  Stephen  Forsyth,  Esquire,  and  his  ward, 
Clarence  Sydney.  Mrs.  Stanley  had  been  deceased 
about  five  years,  during  which  time  her  husband  had 
been  unfortunate  in  some  of  his  moneyed  transactions, 
so  that  when  Uncle  Stephen  returned  from  India  with 
numerous  bags  of  gold,  Mr.  Stanley's  daughters  were 
very  earnest  that  he  should  fulfil  a  promise,  he  had  made 
to  their  mother  more  than  sixteen  years  before,  that  he 
would  some  day  come  home  rich  as  a  Jew,  and  settle 
with  them  for  life. 


IN    DISGUISE.  7 

Mr.  Forsyth  landed  in  New  York.  In  answer  to  a 
.fetter  informing  his  nephew  of  his  return,  he  had  re- 
ceived an  urgent  invitation  to  hasten  at  once  to  Linden- 
wood,  lie  wrote,  in  reply  :  "  I  am  prematurely  old,  and 
people  call  me  odd,  or  eccentric  is.  I  believe,  their  word. 
Unless  your  daughters  are  sweet  tempered,  like  their 
sainted  mother,  I  do  n't  think  they  would  find  my  society 
agreeable,  for  I  have  lived  so  long  among  Hindoos,  I 
scarce  know  how  to  behave  among  civilized  people. 
Then  I  have  a  ward  who  will  live  with  me  while  he 
finishes  his  studies  in  preparation  for  the  bar.  So  weigh 
the  subject  well,  and  let  me  know  whether  you  are  will- 
ing to  devote  yourselves  to  the  whims  of  a  petulant  old 
man. 

"  UNCLE   STEPHEN. 

"  P.  S.  How  could  I  forget  to  tell  you  that  I  am  con- 
fined to  the  use  of  a  speaking-trumpet,  and  that  I  keeo 
two  monkeys. 

"  If,  after  knowing  the  above,  you  should  conclude  to 
continue  your  invitation,  I  shall  start  at  once  for  Linden 
wood,  for  there  are  no  words  in  the  English  language 
strong  enough  to  express  my  disgust  of  this  city,  which 
is  a  perfect  Babel ;  and  the  cold  bends  me  almost 
double." 

After  many  discussions  in  the  family,  Mr.  Stanley 
commissioned  his  daughter  Gertrude,  a  young  lady  of 
eighteen,  to  write  to  her  uncle  to  "come;"  and  in  ten 
days  after  the  receipt  of  the  letter,  he  arrived,  bag  and 
baggage,  ward  and  monkeys,  at  Lindenwood  Hall. 

I  do  not  intend   any  disparagement  to  Mr."  Clarence 


8  THE    HOUSEHOLD 

Sydney  by  placing  his  name  in  such  close  proximity  to 
the  animals  of  a  lower  order,  for  he  was  considered  by 
the  family  a  great  acquisition,  affording  as  he  did  a 
pleasing  contrast  with  the  grotesque  appearance  of 
Uncle  Stephen. 

The  young  ladies  had  been  easily  persuaded  by  theh 
fathei  that  the  old  gentleman,  in  his  letter,  had  only 
wished  to  try  them  by  representing  himself  in  as  unfa« 
vorable  a  light  as  possible  ;  but  when  they  saw  him 
descending  from  the  carriage,  assisted  by  his  ward  and 
the  coachman,  it  was  with  difficulty  that  they  could 
suppress  a  scream  of  horror,  that  such  a  man  was  hence- 
forth to  be  an  inmate  of  their  home. 

Uncle  Stephen  was  naturally  small  of  stature,  but  now 
he  was  so  bent  down  and  shrivelled  with  the  cold,  that 
it  was  difficult  to  tell  how  he  would  look  if  he  stood 
upright.  He  was  so  bundled  up  that  but  little  could  be 
seen  of  his  face,  except  a  huge  pair  of  goggles.  HP 
made  no  reply  to  the  offers  of  assistance  from  Mr.  Stan- 
ley or  from  his  nieces,  when  he  had  ascended  the  steps, 
but  pushed  them  aside,  motioning  to  his  ward  to  lead 
him  to  the  parlor,  where  he  saw  a  fire  blazing  on  tho 
hearth.  When  he  was  seated  in  the  large  arm-chair,  he 
pointed  to  Gertrude  to  place  a  cricket  under  his  feet; 
then,  in  a  low,  gram  voice,  asked  Clarence  for  his  trum- 
pet, who  took  from  one  of  his  outer  pockets  a  large 
horn,  with  a  long  coil  attached  to  it,  surmounted  by  an 
ivory  mouth-piece.  The  Vaf  man  immediately  placed 
the  tube  against  his  eai  passing  the  other  end  to  hia 
nephew,  who  stood  by  looking  on  with  amazement. 
But  he  instantly  put  it  to  his  mouth,  and  said  in  a  loud 


'N    DISGUISE. 


voice,  "  We  are  happy  to  see  you  back   again   in   youi 
native  country." 

"  Glad  of  it,"  replied  Uncle  Stephen,  gruffly,  "  though 
you  appeared  rather  'glum  ;  and  the  girls  there  look  at 
their  old  uncle  as  if  they  took  me  for  an  ogre." 

Speaking  through  the  tube,  their  father  assured  him 
that  they  had  been  very  impatient  for  his  arrival. 

"Well,  perhaps  so,"  said  he,  looking  from  one  to* 
another  as  they  stood  near  ;  "  but  they  don't  altogether 
make  up  to  me  for  the  loss  of  Emma,  their  mother. 
She'd  have  had  her  arms  about  my  neck  before  I  had 
time  to  step  my  foot  upon  the  ground  ;  but  it's  no  mat- 
ter," he  continued,  as  if  speaking  to  himself,  while  he 
removed  the  goggles  sufficiently  to  wipe  away  a  tear 
which  had  gathered  at  the  mention  of  the  deceased. 

a  This,  I  suppose,  is  Mr.  Sydney,"  resumed  the  host, 
endeavoring  to  give  a  more  lively  turn  to  the  conversa- 
tion. "  He  is  so  much  altered  that  I  should  not  recog- 
nize him." 

"'Tan't  any  body  else." 

Mr.  Stanley  cordially  shook  hands  with  his  guest,  and 
introduced  him  to  the  different  members  of  the  family, 
when  the  conversation  became  more  general.  In  the 
midst  of  it,  Alice  came  in  from  the  nursery  accompanied 
by  Louis,  of  whom  she  went  in  search,  after  witnessing 
with  much  curiosity  the  appearance  of  the  Uncle,  of 
whom  she  had  heard  f?o  much.  "  He  loved  aunty, 
dearly,"  she  whispered,  as  they  advanced  through  the 
hall,  "  and  I  want  him  to  see  that  we  love  him  for  her 
sake."  •  But  when  Louis  saw  the  odd  figure,  almost 
buried  in  shawls  and  outer  garments,  h<>  sinned  lm«-k  ; 


10  THE    HOU3F.HOLD    ANGEL 

but  she  whispered  again,  and  he  permitted  her  to  lead 
him  up  to  his  uncle's  chair,  where  he  said,  timidly,  as  he 
held  out  his  small,  white  hand,  "  I  am  glad  you  have 
come,  because  Alice  says  you  knew  my  mother  and 
'oved  her." 

Uncle  Stephen  eagerly  caught  the  little  hand,  and 
kissed  it ;  but  laying  it  quickly  down,  as  if  ashamed  of 
betraying  so  much  emotion,  he  passed  him  the  tube,  in- 
quiring, as  he  put  it  to  his  ear,  "  What  did  you  say  ?  " 

With  a  deep  blush  overspreading  his  pale  countenance,, 
the  boy  tried  to  speak,  but  was  unable  to  articulate. 

Taking  the  trumpet  from  him  and  giving  it  to  Alice,. 
he  asked,  "  Who  is  he,  and  who  are  you,  and  what  does 
he  want  ?  " 

Though  her  lip  quivered,  the  child  replied,  "  He  is 
Louis,  and  I  am  Alice  Carey.  He  says  he  loves  you, 
and  he 's  glad  you  've  come." 

With  a  softened  voice  and  manner,  Uncle  Stephen 
replied,  "  And  are  you  glad,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  am  always  glad  when  Louis  is." 

"  Honest — well,  I  like  that.     Do  you  live  here?' 

I  live  here  part  of  the  time.  My  mother  lives  in  the 
rotlage  at  the  end  of  the  park." 

"  What  is  her  name  ?  " 

"  Susan  Carey,  sir." 

"  Was  her  name  Susan  Brown,  and  did  she  live  at 
the  Hall  once,  as  nurse  to  Mrs.  Stanley  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  you  may  tell  her  she's  got  the  best  'behaved, 
and  most  civil  little  girl  I've  seen  since  I  arrived  in 
America." 


IN    DISGUISE.  1) 

The  child  blushed,  courtesied,  and  taking  Louis  by  the 
hand  retired  to  a  seat  in  the  window.  All  this  time,  Mr. 
Forsyth  had  sat  with  his  outer  garments  on,  just  as  he 
entered;  but  now  he  motionfed  to  Clarence  to  remove 
one  of  his  coats.  When  he  took  off  his  hat  lie  retained 
not  only  his  wig,  but  velvet  cap  with  a  long  tassel  falling 
over  his  shoulder,  which  added  not  a  little  to  his  gro 
tesque  appearance. 

Clarence  Sydney  deserves  more  than  the  passing 
notice  we  have  given  him.  He  was  tall,  of  a  noble 
figure,  and  uncommonly  erect.  His  face  was  serious, 
even  sad,  when  in  repose;  but  there  was  a  vein  of  mirth 
in  his  composition,  as  was  seen  from  an  arch  twinkle  of 
the  eye,  and  a  rogueish  curl  of  the  lip,  on  witnessing  the 
astonishment  of  the  family  at  the  appearance  and  con- 
duct of  his  guardian.  His  eyes  were  large,  and  of  a 
deep  blue.  His  hair  was  chestnut,  and  was  pushed  back 
from  his  forehead,  disclosing  a  broad,  noble  brow.  His 
nose  was  decidedly  large  ;  but  his  mouth  was  small  and 
finely  formed,  giving  evidence  not  only  of  great  sweet- 
ness of  temper,  but  of  firmness  and  resolution.  Of  the 
relation  in  which  he  stood  to  Mr.  Forsyth,  we  shall 
speak  hereafter. 

Mr.  Stanley,  after  directing  the  servants  where  to 
place  the  baggage,  called  Mr.  Sydney  from  the  room  to 
consult  about  future  arrangements.  "  Emma,"  said  Ger- 
trude, when  he  had  retired,  "  what  an  old  barbarian 
Uncle  Stephen  is.  If  it  were  not  for  the  young  man,  I 
would  persuade  father  to  ship  him,  and  his  disgusting 
monkeys  back  to  India,  in  very  short  notice." 


\2  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

"  But,"  said  Edith,  eagerly, "  if  he  went,  he'd  carry  his 
money  with  him." 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  Alice,  "  how  can  you  speak  so, 
when  he  says  he  loved  your  mother  so  dearly  ?  I'm 
sure  I  shall  always  love  him." 

"  I  should  like  to  know,  Miss  Alice,"  retorted  Edith 
angrily,  who  asked  your  opinion?  I'd  have  you  to 
remember  that  you  are  only  a  servant." 

"  Hush,  Edith,"  whispered  Emma,  looking  at  the  old 
gentleman,  who  was  gazing  abstractedly  into  the  fire, 
"  don't  speak  so  loud." 

"  No  fear  of  him,"  said  Gertrude ;  "  he  is  deaf  as  an 
adder,  and  it  is  fortunate  for  us  that  he  is  so." 

A  few  weeks  later,  when  the  family  had  become  some- 
what accustomed  to  the  whims  and  caprices  of  Uncle 

Stephen,  Mr.  Stanley  started  for  N ,  from  which 

place  he  was  to  bring  home  a  lady  to  preside  over  his 
establishment,  in  place  of  the  wife  he  had  so  tenderly 
loved. 


CHAPTER   11." 

"  Beauty  and  worm  in  her  alike  contend, 

To  charm  the  fancy,  and  to  fix  the  mind  ; 
In  her,  my  wife,  my  mistress,  and  my  friend, 

I  taste  the  joys  of  sense  and  reason  joined."  —  Hammond 

MARION  THURSTON  was  the  daughter  of  a  clergyman, 
by  whose  sudden  death  she  had  been  left  an  orphan,  and 
destitute  of  any  near  relatives.  She  was  alone,  and  her 
heart  yearned  for  the  sympathy  and  love  ft>  which  she 
had  been  accustomed  in  the  society  and  affection  of  her 
beloved  parent.  He  had  filled  to  her  the  places  of  father, 
mother  and  friend.  He  had  been  her  teacher  as  well  as 
companion ;  had  watched  with  fond  nride  her  expanding 
intellect ;  had  directed  her  studies  and  her  reading;  and 
as  she  had  grown  older,  consulted  her  in  all  his  plans  for 
the  welfare  of  his  parish,  and  associated  her  with  himself 
in  his  visits  to  the  poor  and  afflicted. 

Marion  had  a  face,  which,  though  not  handsome  in 
the  strictest  sense  of  the  word,  yet  awakened  feelings  of 
interest  in  the  most  casual  observer.  There  was  a  purity 
in  the  low,  broad  brow,  from  which  her  soft  hair  was 
simply  parted  ;  a  clear,  truthful  expression  in  her  deep 
blue  eye ;  and  when  animated,  such  a  sunlight  spreading 
over  her  whole  countenance,  that  one  turned  instinctively 
to  look  again.  Brought  up  in  intimate  nssoc-iation  with 
a  gentleman  of  truly  refined  tastes,  and  if  a  high  order 
of  intellect  ;  shielded  as  far  as  possible  from  all  p< T- 
2  13 


14  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

nicious  influences,  she  was  now,  at  twenty-five,  a  youns, 
lady  gifted  with  rare  endowments  of  mind  and  person, 
and  with  a  heart  peculiarly  susceptible  to  kindness  and 
love.  She  had  received  offers  of  marriage,  but  had  never 
been  sufficiently  interested  in  those  who  sought  her  hand 
to  wave'r  for  a  moment  in  the  determination  she  had 
formed  not  to  leave  her  father.  Such  was  her  character 
at  his  death,  which  was  the  occasion  of  her  first  heart- 
sorrow.  Her  mother  died  before  her  remembrance,  and 
from  that  time  her  life  had  flowed  oil  in  uninterrupted 
peace  and  quietness.  But  the  loss  of  her  only  surviving 
parent  crushed  her,  and  for  a  long  time  she  was  not  able 
to  leave  her  bed.  After  the  expiration  of  several  months, 
she  was  urged  by  dear  friends  to  shut  up  the  cottage, 
and  spend  the  summer  with  them.  This  she  at  length 
consented  to  do,  though  it  cost  her  a  dreadful  struggle  to 
leave,  even  for  so  short  a  time,  the  home  rendered  sacred 
by  the  memory  of  her  beloved  parent.  It  was  in  the 
family  of  her  dearest  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Churchill, 
that  she  met  Mr.  Stanley,  who  visited  them  on  his  way 
to  the  East.  He  was  much  pleased  with  her  appearance, 
though  her  countenance  was  rather  pensive,  and  her 
inannei  in  the  presence  of  a  stranger  very  retiring.  He 
continued  his  journey,  but,  wherever  he  went,  a  pair  of 
deej)  blue  eyes  seemed  ever  appealing  to  him  for  kind- 
ness and  sympathy.  He  cut  short  his  stay  in  B , 

and  returned  to  N ,  where  he  obtained  rooms  at  th(5 

public  house,  but  spent  most  of  his  time  in  the  family 
of  Mr.  Churchill.  He  gradually  won  the  confidence  of 
MVrion,  encouraged  her  to  talk  of  her  father,  and  at 


IX    DISGUISE.  15 

length  offered  to  fill  the  place  in  her  heart  rendered  deso- 
late by  that  father's  sudden  death. 

Miss  Thurston  was  at  first  startled  at  his  abrupt  pro- 
posal, as  she  had  never  thought  of  him  in  the  character 
of  a  lover,  and  especially  as  he  wished  to  take  her  with 
him  on  his  return  to  Liudenwood.  But  her  friends  were 
enthusiastic  in  his  praise;  and  Marion  at  length  yielded 
herself  to  the  delight  of  being  once  more  the  dearest 
object  of  affection  to  a  true  manly  heart,  though  she 
positively  declined  accompanying  him  to  Linden  wood 
until  he  had  made  his  intentions  known  to  his  family. 
She  urged  him  to  consent  that  their  marriage  should  be 
postponed  until  the  next  summer ;  but  to  this  he  would 
by  no  means  agree,  and  at  length  the  twentieth  of  No- 
vember was  decided  upon  for  the  celebration  of  the 
nuptials. 

When  Mr.  Stanley  communicated  to  his  family  his 
.»ruuded  marriage,  he  met  with  no  sympathy  from  his 
daughters,  who  were  very  unwilling  to  give  up  the  free- 
dom they  had  so  long  enjoyed  of  acting  out  the  impulses 
of  their  own  free  will.  Louis,  however,  was  charmed 
#itti  tne  description  of  his  new  mother;  and  many  were 
the  conversations  he  held  with  Aliee  upon  tm*  interesting 
theme.  But  Edith  more  than  either  of  her  sisters  openly 
"\pressed  her  displeasure,  and  her  determination,  what- 
ever Gertrude  and  Emma  might  do,  to  show  Miss 
Thurston  that  her  inclinations  and  pleasures  were  not 
to  be  restrained. 

On  one  occasion,  when  she  was  unusually  earnest  in 
asserting  her  own  rights  in  opposition  to  those  of  a  mere 
stranger.  Alice  ventured  to  exuostulate  with  her,  asking, 


16  THF.    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"  Why  should  yon  suppose  she  will  wish  to  tyrannize 
over  you  1 " 

Even  Louis  undertook  her  defence,  and,  with  a  Hush 
upon  his  sickly  countenance,  said,  "  You  ought  not  to 
talk  so,  Edith,  when  you've  never  seen  her.  I  think  she 
will  be  very  kind ;  and  I  mean  to  love  her  with  all  my 
might."  Exhausted  by. his  emotion,  he  put  his  hand 
feebly  into  that  of  Alice,  when,  looking  up,  he  beheld  his 
father  standing  behind  him. 

Mr.  Stanley  drew  a  chair  near  the  group,  and  sat 
down,  taking  Louis  upon  his  knee.  For  a  moment  he 
pressed  the  artless  boy  to  his  heart,  when  he  turned  to 
Edith,  who,  with  a  heightened  color,  stood  before  him 
with  a  seeming  determination,  now  that  .he  had  heard 
her  passionate  words,  to  brave  it  out,  and  said,  gravely, 
"  I  shall  give  you  no  opportunity,  my  daughter,  to  make 
your  new  mother  unhappy  by  your  undutiful  conduct. 
You  will  leave  for  school,  and  continue  there  until  you 
can  command  your  temper,  and  can  learn  to  treat  her 
with  the  respect  and  courtesy  which  are  her  due." 

Edith's  only  reply  was  an  ugly  pout. 

"  Leave  the  room  !  "  commanded  her  father,  sternly. 

When  she  had  gone,  Louis  whispered, "  You  wouldn't 
send  AJice  away  from  me,  father  1  " 

"  No,  my  dear,  Alice  shall  not  leave  you.  She  is  a 
good  child.  I  wish  Edith  were  more  like  her ;  "  and 
Mr.  Stanley  sighed  as  he  thought  how  much  more  like 
his  departed  Emma  was  the  tearful  girl  who  stood  clasp- 
ing the  hand  of  his  little  son,  than  either  of  his  own 
children.  "  Alice,"  he  resumed,  after  a  short  pause,  "  if  I 
am  not  very  much  mistaken,  you  will  have  cause  to 


IN    DlSGl'IRR.  1? 

blesd  the  day  Miss  Thurston  comes  to  dwel  under  this 
roof." 

"  She  loves  her  now !  "  exclaimed  Louis,  eagerly.  "  She 
told  me  how  she  looked,  and  ho\v  good  she  was  ;  and  she 
says  she  i^  so  glad,  because  she  knows  you  will  be  hap- 
pier." 

Mr.  Stanley  cast  a  look  of  wonder  upon  the  child,  who 
stood  with  downcast  eyes,  as  she  said,  timidly,  "  I  heard 
you  tell  mother,  sir ;  and  she  said  the  girls  ought  to  be 
very  thankful  to  have  such  a  lady  for  a  parent." 

In  the  meantime  Edith  joined  her  sisters,  and  gave 
them  an  exaggerated  account  of  her  grievances,  sobbing 
out,  "  Father  never  treated  me  so  cruelly  before.  I  hate 
Miss  Thurston  more  than  ever,  for  she  is  the  whole  cause 
of  ir.  I  have  a  great  mind  to  say  I  never  will  come 
home  from  school!"  Gertrude  and  Emma  joined  the 
passionate  girl  in  lamenting  that  the  artful  creature  had 
gained  such  an  influence  over  their  usually  kind  and 
indulgent  father  ;  and  when  they  met  him  at  dinner,  they 
only  answered  his  kind  inquiries  in  monosyllables. 

The  conduct  of  his  daughters  caused  Mr.  Stanley  no 
little  solicitude.  With  the  exception  of  Edith,  they  had 
been  uniformly  dutiful  and  respectful  toward  him,  though 
he  became  every  day  more  sensible  that  they  needed  a 
mother's  watchfulness  and  care.  He  felt,  now,  that  he 
had  unintentionally  deceived  Miss  Thurston  in  describ- 
ing them  as  loving,  affectionate  girls,  who  would  take 
delight  in  rendering  her  happy.  He  began  to  -doubt 
whether  it  would  be  right  to  expose  her  to  such  tiials  as 
he  foresaw  that  she,  with  her  too  sensitive  nature,  would 
be  called  upon  to  suffer.  Edith's  character  had  always 
2* 


18  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL, 

been  an  enigma  to  her  parents.  They  could  not  discern 
a  single  trait  like  her  sister's.  Though  the  younger,  yet 
by  her  proud,  imperious  will,  she  had,  even  before  the 
death  of  her  mother,  exercised  control  over  her  elder  sis- 
tors,  especially  over  Gertrude,  who  was  naturally  indo- 
lent, and  would  yield  rather  than  defend  her  rights.  Per- 
haps there  was  no  one  in  the  family  who  could  influence 
Edith,  and  calm  her  passionate  bursts  of  temper,  so 
quickly  as  Alice.  Though  very  unobtrusive  and  unpre- 
tending, yet  she  was  bold  in  her  defence  of  right,  espec- 
ially when  Louis  was  assailed.  Mrs.  Stanley  had  hoped 
much  from  the  influence  of  this  lovely  child,  and  had 
obtained  a  promise  from  her  husband,  on  her  death  bed, 
that  she  should  remain  in  the  family,  and  be  educated 
with  her  own  children. 

In  the  course  of  the  week  following  Mr.  Stanley's  con- 
versation with  Edith,  he  completed  his  arrangements  for 

her  and  Emma  to  go  to  the  boarding-school,  in  T , 

from  which  Gertrude  had  graduated  the  previous  sum- 
mer. He  was  only  persuaded  to  postpone  it  anothei 
quarter,  after  heafing  of  the  arrival  of  Uncle  Stephen, 
and  their  strong  desire  to  see  him  before  they  left  home, 
Impelled  by  this  curiosity,  they  gave  their  father  a  pledge 
of  good  conduct,  and  were  to  leave  a  short  time  after  th^ 
introduction  of  their  new  mother  to  Lindenwood  Hall. 

This  was  the  situation  of  the  family  when  Mr.  Stanley 

started  for  N .  Often  during  his  journey  he  asked 

himself,  "  Can  I  make  her  happy?  Can  I  return  hei 
warm  and  tender  affection,  as  breathed  through  every 
line  of  her  letters  ?  Is  it  a  fair  return  of  such  love,  to 
offer  her  a  heart  whose  first,  best  affections,  are  buried 


IN    DISGUISE.  Jb 

.with  my  Emma  ?  Am  I  not  too  mature,  too  reserved,  i« 
be  a  companion  for  one  so  artless  and  impulsive  in  her 
temperament  ?  "  But  these  momentary  thoughts  were 
entirely  dissipated  as  he  approached  the  place  of  his  des- 
tination, and  looked  forward  with  delight  to  meeting 
again  his  dear  Marion. 

At  the  pressing  invitation  of  her  friends,  Miss  Thura 

ton  had  consented  to  remain  in  N ,  and  to  have  the 

wedding  take  place  at  their  house.  By  her  desire  Mr. 
Churchill  rented  the  cottage,  where  she  had  lived  so 
happily  with  her  lamented  father,  to  the  new  clergyman 
who  had  come  to  take  his  place.  By  the  kindness  of  the 
same  friend  the  rest  of  her  property  had  been  converted 
into  money,  and  placed  at  interest.  She  had  dwelt  upon 
the  image  and  character  of  her  betrothed  until  he  had 
become  her  ideal  of  all  that  was  true,  noble,  and  good. 
With  eyes  streaming  with  tears  of  joy  and  gratitude,  she 
thanked  her  Father  in  heaven  for  providing  her  a  friend 
and  companion  to  take  the  place  of  the  one  she  had 
lost.  This  was  Marion's  first  love,  and  she  poured  out 
freely  her  best  and  warmest  affections,  the  whole  wealth 
of  her  generous  heart. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Churchill  witnessed  her  devotion  to  him, 
and,  though  much  pleased  at  her  prospects,  yet  they 
warned  her  that  there  might  be  many  circumstances  con- 
nected with  the  relation  of  step-molher  which  would  be 
wounding  to  her  feelings.  But  Marion  answered,  "  With 
a  husband's  love  I  can  endure  anything.  And  I  mean  lo 
show  them,"  she  added,  her  eye  brighienini.r,  and  hei 
whole  countenance  glowing  with  ihe  generous  resolve 
f  that  I  love  them  for  his  sake,  and  that  I  hope  to  win 


20  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

their  respect  and  affection.     I  feel  sure  that  I  shall  sue* 
ceed." 

Her  friends  said  no  more,  believing  that  the  heart  must 
be  indeed  cold  which  responds  not  to  such  a  sentiment. 

Now  Marion  Stanley  was  to  test  the  character  and 
feelings  of  her  new  friends,  and  certain  misgivings,  aris- 
ing from  remarks  of  her  husband  as  they  drew  near  Lin- 
denwood,  made  her  breast  heave,  and  her  eyes  fill  with 
tears.  They  had  been  talking  of  Edith,  and  her  father 
had  expressed  his  determination  to  keep  her  at  school 
until  she  could  overcome  her  passionate  temper,  and  her 
unreasonable  prejudices. 

"  How,  then,  can  I  win  her  confidence  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Stanley,  smiling  through  her  tears.  "  I  wish  she  were  to 
be  at  home,  certainly  for  a  time." 

But  her  husband  shook  his  head,  and  began  to  talk  of 
his  gentle  Louis,  whose  arms  were  open  to  receive  her. 
Nor  did  he  fail  to  speak  of  Alice,  who.  was  as  dear  to 
him  as  his  own  children.  With  slight  embarrassment 
ne  continued  :  "  Her  mother  was  brought  up  in  the 
family  with  my  deceased  Emma,  and,  from  our  marriage 
to  her  own,  lived  with  her  as  companion  and  nurse. 
Edith  is  only  a  few  days  older  than  Alice,  and  my  Em- 
ma's health  was  then  so  feeble,  that  Susan,  her  mother, 
took  our  little  one  and  kept  her  until  she  was  nearly  two 
yeais  old.  I  think  Edith  retains  some  of  the  affection  she 
then  exhibited  for  her  foster  sister,  though  she  often  makes 
remarks  which  bring  a  tear  to  the  eye  of  the  sensitive 
child.  When  first  separated  from  her  companion  she 
screamed  so  violently  that  her  mother  feared  she  would 


IX    DISGUISE.  23 

have  convulsions.  And  thus  it  came  to  be  the  habit  foi 
Alice  to  live  almost  entirely  at  the  Hall.  I  tried  to  pre- 
vail upon  Mrs.  Carey  to  live  with  us  ;  but  she  prefers  to 
be  alone  at  the  cottage,  except  when  she  is  needed  for 
Louis,  who  is  as  dear  to  her  as  her  own  child.  Since 
the  decease  of  Mrs.  Stanley  she  has  been  subject  to  fits 
of  despondence ;  and  at  such  times,  even  the  presence 
of  her  child  adds  to  her  melancholy ;  but  generally  she  is 
cheerful  and  very  efficient. 

Mr.  Stanley  related  to  his  wife  his  conversation  with 
Alice  and  Louis  in  regard  to  her,  and  the  young  bride 
was  comforted  with  the  thought  that  she  could  influence 
these  dear  children  for  good  ;  and,  perhaps  through  them, 
win  her  way  to  the  hearts  of  the  others.  She  asked 
many  questions  concerning  the  uncle,  of  whose  arrival 
she  had  been  at  once  informed,  and  was  quite  amused 
at  the  graphic  account  her  husband  gave  her  of  the  old 
gentleman  and  his  oddities. 

For  a  number  of  weeks  Uncle  Stephen  had  confined 
himself  almost  entirely  to  his  own  suite  of  apartments, 
where,  in  the  company  of  his  ward,  he  passed  his  time  ; 
though,  whether  in  reading,  writing,  amusing  himself 
with  the  tricks  of  Sally  and  Polio,  or  v/hatever  way. 
could  not  be  ascertained,  as  no  one  ventured,  uncalled, 
into  the  presence  of  the  deaf  nabob,  as  he  was  styled  by 
the  servants.  But  on  the  day  of  the  expected  arrival  of 
Mr.  Stanley  and  his  bride,  he  appeared  at  dinner,  ar- 
rayed in  a  new  suit,  consisting  of  a  gayly  embroidered 
smoking  cap  over  his  wig  (though  smoking  was  the  old 
gentleman's  abhorrence),  with  the  long  gilt  tassel  falling 
as  usual  over  his  shoulders  ;  and  with  slippers,  em- 
bossed with  gold  bullion. 


Z2  THE     HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

When  he  entered  the  dining-hall,  Gertrude  and  hei 
sisters  were  at  no  loss  to  account  for  the  perfect  roar  of 
laughter  which  they  had  heard  from  his  room,  at  several 
different  times  during  the  forenoon,  and  which,  indeed, 
was  no  unusual  sound  from  that  quarter.  Their  illj- 
concealed  mirth  did  not  by  any  means  escape  his  notice. 
Indeed,  his  eyes,  though  shaded  by  the  huge  goggles, 
allowed  nothing  to  pass  without  attention.  The  young 
ladies  often  remarked,  that  if  his  hearing  were  as  perfect 
as  his  sight,  they  would  not  be  able  to-  live  in  the  house 
with  him  ;  but  on  this  occasion  the  only  perceptible 
result  of  their  rude  conduct  was  an  incessant  demand, 
on  his  part,  for  attention.  He  was  continually  mum- 
bling to  himself,  only  now  and  then  a  sentence  being 
spoken  intelligibly  :  "  In  my  dotage  when  I  left  India  ;" 
"  Heathen  Hindoos  more  civib'zed  than  some  Christians  ; 
but  'twa'n't  always  so." 

After  dinner,  Clarence  Sydney  having  learned  that 
Uncle  Stephen  would  remain  in  the  parlor  until  the  ex- 
pected arrival  of  Mr.  Stanley  with  his  lady,  went  out  for 
a  walk  to  the  village. 

After  his  departure,  Gertrude  and  her  sisters,  unre- 
strained by  his  presence,  began  to  discuss  various  items 
of  family  matters.  "  I  wonder,"  commenced  Emma, 
\vhat  Uncle  Stephen  thinks  of  our  new  relative  ?  " 

"  The  great  Mogul  has  condescended  to  give  no 
opinion  upon  the  subject,"  repb'ed  Edith. 

"  I  suppose,"  remarked  Gertrude,  "  that  he  is  waiting 
nntil  he  has  seen  her  before  he  gives  his  opinion.  She 
must  feel  flattered  at  her  new  connection.  How  ridicu- 
lously he  looks,  decked  out  like  a  peacock.  I  saw  Clar- 


I\    DISGUISE. 

ence  had  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  retain  his  dignity. 
I  noticed  that  he  never  once  glanced  at  his  guardian  all 
the  time  \ve  sat  at  the  table." 

An  expressive  cough  from  the  subject  of  their  remarks, 
startled  the  eager  group  into  an  awkward  silence,  durinr 
which  Alice,  who  had  occupied  her  favorite  seat  in  the 
window  with  Louis,  advanced  to  the  old  gentleman,  and 
quietly  placed  a  cricket  under  his  feet.  He  started  as  if 
from  sleep,  and  something  like  a  smile  flitted  for  a  mo- 
ment across  his  features. 

"  How  the  old  fellow  frightened  me,"  said  Edith,  in  a 
low  voice,  and  drawing  a  long  breath. 

"Nonsense,  child!"  exclaimed  Gertrude,  shrugging 
her  shoulders  as  she  left  the  room.  "  He  was  snoring." 

"  How  Clarence  can  be  so  devoted  to  him  is  a  mys- 
tery to  me,"  said  Emma,  as  she  and  Edith  joined  their 
sister. 

"  On  the  verge  of  evening  a  cheerful  fire  was  blazing 
on  the  hearth,  throwing  out  its  fitful  gleams  of  light  to 
the  farthest  end  of  the  apartment.  It  was  truly  a  pious- 
ant  scene  to  look  upon.  Ally  and  Louis  were  sitting  in 
graceful  attitudes  upon  the  rug  near  a  large  globe,  which 
they  had  drawn  up  to  the  light ;  while  Clarence,  who 
appeared  inspired  wilh  animation  by  the  rapt  attention 
nf  hi 5  hearers,  was  pointing  out  places  of  interest  which 
he  had  visited.  Uncle  Stephen  had  so  far  lost  his  pres- 
ence of  mind  as  to  push  back  the  goggles  from  hi,*; 
eyes,  and  disclosed  a  pair  of  brilliant  orbs,  whose  mild, 
loving  glances  were  resting  upon  the  group  before  him. 

"And  did  you  live  there  too?"  inquired  Louis  of 
Clarence,  pointing  to  the  southern  part  of  Hmdoostan, 


24  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

while  the  heat  and  reflection  from  the  fire  gave  an  almost 
unearthly  beauty  to  his  usually  pale  countenance. 

"  Yes,  my  little  cousin,  I  lived  there  with  Uncle  Ste- 
phen, amidst  Ihe  elephants  and  tigers  you  were  reading 
about  this  morning." 

"  What  a  pity  Uncle  Stephen  can't  hear,"  murmured 
Alice,  looking  tenderly  in  his  face.  "  I  always  feel  as  if 
I  wanted  to  tell  him  what  we're  talking  about." 

"  He  wouldn't  always  be  edified  by  the  conversation^' 
responded  Clarence,  with  an  arch  smile. 

"  No,"  said  Alice,  blushing  painfully,  "  but  when,  a& 
now,  he'd  like  to  hear  it." 

«  Tell  him  so,  then." 

Uncle  Stephen  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair,  as  the 
child  put  the  trumpet  to  her  mouth  ;  but  he  placed  the 
tube  to  his  ear,  and  said,  kindly,  "  I  know,  little  girl, 
you've  been  talking  about  the  old  man.  I've  seen  the 
pitying  glances  you  cast  up  here." 

"  I  told  Clar  —  Mr.  Sydney,"  said  the  child,  hesi- 
tating, "  that  I  wanted  you  to  hear  too,  because  we're 
having  such  a  beautiful  time." 

"  Ahem  !  ahem  !  "  said  the  old  gentleman,  clearing  his 
throat;  "so  you  can't  enjoy  yourself  unless  I  enjoy  it 
too  ?  Did  anybody  ever  tell  you,  Alice,"  he  said,  ab- 
ruptly, after  she  had  returned  to  her  seat  on  the  rug, 
"that  you  were  like  Mrs.  Stanley  ?  " 

Alice  shook  her  head  as  she  replied,  "  Xo,  sir." 

"  Got  no  eyes  then,"  grumbled  he,  in  his  old  tone. 

"  My  little  cousin  Ally,"  said  Clarence,  laying  his  hand 
on  her  arm,  "  do  you  wish  to  please  me  ?  " 

«  O,  yes,  sir !  " 


IN 


"  Well,  then,  never  call  me  Mr.  Sydney  again,  but 
Clarence,  or  Cousin  Clarence,  if  you  will." 

"  But  Gertrude  told  me  —  "  she  checked  herself. 

"  No  matter  what  anybody  told  you,  will  you  re- 
member ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Just  as  Louis  had  put  out  his  hand  to  thank  his  cousin 
for  the  kindness  extended  to  his  dearest  friend,  the  door 
of  the  parlor  opened,  and  Mr.  Stanley  appeared,  leading 
in  his  lady.  For  just  one  instant,  all  remained  motion- 
less, the  quick  glance  of  the  young  wife  taking  in  the 
whole  pleasing  tableau,  when  Louis  eagerly  sprang 
forward  into  his  father's  arms.  Alice  would  have  fol- 
lowed, her  glowing  cheeks  and  beaming  eyes  betraying 
her  interest  ;  but  she  hesitated,  when  a  look  from  Clar- 
ence decided  her,  and  she  advanced  cordially  and  grace- 
fully to  Mrs.  Stanley,  and  gave  her  her  hand.  Marion 
quickly  drew  the  lovely  child  to  her  heart,  and  whispered, 
"  Thank  you,  my  dear.'' 

"  If  you  are  endeavoring  to  gain  the  affection  of  this 
young  man,  you  are  taking  the  surest  means  to  do  so," 
said  Mr.  Stanley,  introducing  Louis  to  his  new  mother. 

The  boy  put  his  arms  lovingly  about  her  neck,  irre- 
sistibly attracted  by  the  tenderness  which  beamed  from 
her  eye  ;  and  he  kissed  her  tenderly.  Then,  taking  her 
hand,  he  led  her  toward  the  fire,  saying,  "  Here's  Uncle 
Stephen,  mamma.  Alice  and  I  love  him  dearly;  but 
he's  very  deaf,  and  he  can't  hear  unless  you  speak 
through  the  trumpet." 

Uncle  Stephen  took  no  notice  of  his  nephew's  earnest 
signs  for  attention,  but  appeared  wholly  absorbed  in  the 
3 


2ti  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

vigorous  use  of  his  bandanna,  and  Mr.  Stanley  intro 
duced  to  him  his  wife. 

Marion  caught  the  glance  of  kind  interest  with  which 
Uncle  Stephen  regarded  her,  entirely  forgetful  that,  his 
goggles  were  lying  useless  upon  the  top  of  his  head,  and 
without  ceremony  she  took  the  old  gentleman's  hand. 
She  was  agreeably  surprised  at  the  warmth  with  which 
it  was  returned,  and  from  that  time  knew,  however 
Uncle  Stephen  might  appear,  there  was  a  warm  heart 
beating  beneath  all  the  seeming  coldness  of  his  manner. 

"  Where  are  the  girls  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Stanley  of  Alice. 

"  I  will  call  them,  sir,"  she  replied  :  "  we  did  not  hear 
the  carriage  drive  up ;  and  they  do  not  know  you  have 
arrived."  They  immediately  made  their  appearance, 
and  greeted  their  father  with  affection,  and  their  mothei 
at  least  with  politeness.  Mr.  Stanley  spoke  in  a  low 
tone  to  Alice,  when  she  went  toward  the  stranger,  say- 
ing, "  Will  you  please  come  with  me  to  your  room  ?  " 

The  lady  immediately  arose,  and  Louis  put  his  hand 
in  hers,  asking,  "  May  I  go  too  ?  " 

The  evening  passed  pleasantly  away.  Even  Uncle 
Stephen,  as  he  turned  to  watch  the  countenance  of.  one 
and  another,  seemed  unconscious  of  the  lateness  of  the 
hour.  But  the  young  bride  felt  sad  as  the  family  sepa- 
rated without  having  first  thanked  God  for  the  favors  of 
the  day ;  and  she  repressed  a  sigh  as  she  asked  herseli, 
"  Have  I  como  into  a  prayerless  family  ?  " 


CHAPTER    111. 

"  Perfumes,  the  more  they're  chafd  the  more  they  render 
Their  pleasant  scents  ;  and  so  affliction 
Expresseth  virtue  fully,  whether  true 
Or  else  adulterate."  —  J.  Webster. 

Two  weeks  passed  away,  during  which  time  Mrs. 
Stanley  had  so  endeared  herself  to  Ally  and  Louis,  that 
they  were  never  so  happy  as  when  sitting  by  her  side, 
and  listening  to  her  pleasant  instructions.  The  prepara- 
tions were  completed  for  Emma's  and  Edith's  departure : 

and  they  were  to  leave  for  T the  next  morning.   The 

kind  interest  her  new  mother  had  manifested  for  her, 
touched  Emma's  heart,  and  she  would  have  thrown  away 
her  reserve,  and  treated  her  with  affection,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  influence  of  her  younger  sister,  who  found  some 
thing  to  ridicule  or  sneer  at  in  every  action,  though  she 
took  good  care  not  to  do  so  in  the  presence  of  her  fal  her. 
She  ascribed  her  mother's  kindness  to  the  worst  motive? 
while  Gertrude,  though  ceremoniously  polite,  took  no 
pains  to  conceal  the  fact  that  she  considered  Mrs.  Stan- 
ley as  an  intruder.  The  word  mother  had  never  passed 
her  lips,  and  she  had  made  a  solemn  promise  not  to  call 
Mrs.  Stanley  by  that  sacred  name. 

Poor  Marion  !  It  needed  all  the  attention  of  her  hus- 
band, all  the  confiding  love  of  the  younger  children,  all 
the  sympathy  expressed  in  the  countenance  of  Uncle 
Stephen,  to  enable  her  to  endure  this  chilling  indifference 

27 


28  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

on  the  part  of  those  whom  she  longed  to  be  able  to  regard 
as  her  own  children.  She  had  always  been  so  beloved  by 
her  friends,  had  lived  in  such  an  atmosphere  of  peaceful 
affection,  that  she  was  often  obliged  to  retire  to  her  rooir 
to  give  vent,  in  tears,  to  her  grief  and  disappointment. 

Little  did  her  husband  imagine  the  constant  annoy 
ances  to  which  she  was  subjected,  for  in  his  presence 
Gertrude,  and  even  Edith,  restrained  any  outward  mani- 
festation of  the  feeling  of  dislike  which  increased  with 
every  fresh  indulgence  of  unkindness  toward  their  gentle, 
unassuming  mother.  Indeed,  he  inwardly  congratulated 
himself  that  his  daughters  conducted  themselves  toward 
her  much  better  than  he  had  dared  to  expect ;  but  they 
had  seen  her  quietly  submit  to  insulting  language,  and 
they  began  to  feel  contempt  for  her  as  a  tame  character. 
They  never  dreamed  of  the  severe  conflict  which  wras  go- 
ing on  in  her  soul.  They  could  not  understand,  or  appre- 
ciate, the  agony  of  spirit  \vith  which,  night  and  morning, 
she  plead  with  her  God,  and  her  father's  God,  for  wisdom 
so  to  conduct  herself  as  to  win  all  the  dear  members  of 
this  beloved  family  to  her  Saviour.  Sometimes,  indeed, 
she  was  tried  beyond  endurance ;  and,  though  a  sudden 
flashing  of  her  eye,  which  was  daily  growing  more  seri- 
ous in  its  expression,  and  a  flush  upon  her  cheek,  might 
have  convinced  her  daughters  that  she  felt,  keenly  felt, 
their  unkindness ;  yet  she  would  quickly  retire  to  her 
closet,  and  there  give  way  to  a  passionate  burst  of  grief. 

"  Oh !  why,  why  will  they  be  so  cruel,  so  unjust,  to 
me  ?  Why  will  they  persist  in  ascribing  all  my  words 
of  love,  all  my  interest  in  them,  to  the  worst  of  motives ! " 
This  question  she  often  asked,  while  tears  were  stream- 


29 

ing  down  her  cheeks.  "  How  can  my  husband  be  so 
blind  as  not  to  see  this?  He  has  spoken  of  my  depres- 
sion of  spirits,  and  feared  I  was  disappointed  either  ii. 
him  or  in  my  home.  I  assured  him  truly  this  was  not 
the  ease ;  but  oh !  I  could  not  speak  of  the  cruel.  unlacU 
like  taunts  I  constantly  received  from  his  children,  when 
not  restrained  by  his  presence,  or  that  of  Mr.  Sydney. 
No,  I  will  not  make  him  unhappy.  I  will  try  first  to  con- 
quer myself,  for  oh  !  how  hard  my  heart  must  be,  when  T 
find  it  so  difficult  to  love  them ;  and  then  to  conquer 
them  by  kindness." 

During  the  evening  previous  to  the  departure  of  Emma 
and  Edith,  Mrs  Stanley  went  to  her  room  for  the  pur- 
pose of  writing  a  note  to  them,  begging  their  acceptance 
of  some  bracelets  which  she  had  ordered  for  them,  of 
beautiful  and  chaste  workmanship.  A  stone  of  rare  value 
was  set  in  each,  and  underneath  it  the  initials  of  their 
names.  To  E.  S.,  from  their  mother.  Mr.  Sydney  had 
returned  from  New  York  that  evening,  and  had  just 
given  them  to  her.  On  advancing  toward  her  dressing 
table,  she  perceived  it  had  been  removed,  while  all  the 
contents  of  the  drawers  were  thrown  carelessly  upon  the 
bed.  She  stood  for  one  moment  in  amazement.  Tim 
was  but  a  fresh  instance  of  the  annoyances  to  which  sh< 
had  every  day  been  exposed,  and  she  doubted  whethei 
she  ought  not  to  resist  such  treatment ;  but  she  shrank 
from  the  thought  of  a  contest  with  Edith,  who,  she 
doubted  not,  was  the  principal  in  this  offence.  Already 
she  had  seen  in  her  such  a  disposition  to  tyrannize  over  all 
around  her,  she  was  sure  the  proud  girl  would  not  yield 
to  her  authority  without  a  struggle.  After  a  few  moments 
3* 


30  THE     HOrSr.IIOLD    AMGF.f, 

*?!<•  knocked  al  Gertrude's  dorr,  and  was  instantly  admit' 
led.  Indeed,  she  seemed  to  be  expected  by  the  young 
ladies,  who  were  making  themselves  very  merry  upon 
some  subject  of  which  they  had  been  conversing.  Edith 
was  standing  in  front  of  the  missing  table,  the  top  of 
which  was  strown  with  combs,  brushes,  and  hair-pins, 
while  she  had  unbound  her  hair,  and  was  deliberately 
proceeding  to  dress  it  for  the  evening,  having  just  heard 
of  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Sydney. 

"  I  think  you  have  appropriated  my  dressing-table," 
said  the  young  mother  in  a  voice  which  slightly  trembled, 
notwithstanding  all  her  efforts  to  appear  perfectly  calm. 
"  I  found  my  laces  and  other  articles  in  rather  a  confused 
state." 

No  one  answered. 

"  I  hardly  expected  young  ladies  would  have  treated 
one  so  much  of  a  stranger  with  so  little  courtesy,  she 
continued,  brushing  away  a  tear  which  filled  her  eye. 

"  Yon  needn't  look  so  woe-begone  at  Gertrude,"  re- 
plied Edith,  with  a  coarse  laugh.  "  She  wanted  the 
table,  but  she  never  would  have  had  the  spunk  to  take  it, 
so  I  t*ook  it  for  her ;  not  doubting  your  willingness  to 
oblige,"  she  added,  with  a  low  courtesy  of  mock  respect 

Mrs.  Stanley  was  so  indignant  at  the  tone  and  manner 
of  this  rude  speech,  that  it  was  with  difficulty  she  re- 
si  rained  herself  from  a  sharp  reply.  She  turned  instantly 
to  leave  the  room,  but  had  not  shut  the  door,  when  she 
heard  Edith  exclaim,  in  a  triumphant  tone,  "  There ! 
didn't  I  tell  you  so !  She's  a  mean,  craven-spirited 
woman  !  *  She  dared  not  speak  a  word  in  her  own  de- 
fence !  I'd  like  to  have  anybody  try  that  game  on  me 


IN    DISGUISE.  i 

I'd  siorm  and  rave  till  I  raised  the  roof,  before  Pd  submit 
to  it." 

"  I  never  was  so  thoroughly  mortified  in  my  life,"  said 
Emma.  "  If  she  had  staid  one  moment  more,  I  should 
have  told  her  so." 

Mrs.  Stanley  retired  to  her  own  room  ;  but  it  was 
some  time  before  she  could  compose  herself  to  the  task 
before  her.  Again  and  again  did  she  throw  herself  upon 
her  knees,  in  prayer  for  strength  to  endure  all  the  trials 
which  her  heavenly  Father  thought  needful  for  her. 
When  she  arose,  the  memory  of  the  past  —  the  quiet  — - 
and  happy  life  she  had  led  with  her  sainted  father  stood 
out  in  such  bold  contrast  with  the  insulting  abuse  —  the 
petty  annoyances  which,  by  their  constant  recurrence  so 
embittered  her  present  life,  that  she  could  only  weep 
afresh.  She  felt  herself  alone,  and  unprotected  ;  and 
for  the  first  time  hard  thoughts  of  her  husband  began  to 
arise  in  her  heart.  She  felt  that  she  had  been  deceived. 
Not  for  worlds  would  she  have  left  her  pleasant  home,  to 
live  a  life  of  such  wretchedness  as  she  now  saw  before 
her.  Then  the  questions  again  arose,  whether  she  ought 
to  submit  to  it ;  whether  it  were  not  a  sin  toward  those, 
who,  however  they  might  regard  her,  stood  in  the  tender 
relation  of  children.  She  wrung  her  hands  in  agony. 
"  Oh  !  what  can  I  do  ?  I  am  altogether  unfit  for  such 
a  responsibility.  Naturally  timid  and  wanting  in  de- 
cision, with  my  whole  heart,  I  shrink  from  these  trials." 

But  Marion  Sianlcy  was  not  alone.  The  good  Spirit 
whispered,  "  1  am  wiih  llicc.  As  thy  day  is,  so  shall  thy 
strength  be."  She  again  bowed  her  head,  not  in  prayer, 
but  in  praiso.  Yes,  AJan.ui  was  comforted.  An  Al- 


32  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

might)  arm  was  underneath  her,  and  though  clouda 
overcast  her  sky,  yet  she  was*  enabled  by  faith  to  look 
forward  to  the  time  when  these  precursors  of  storm 
should  pass  away,  and  the  sun  shine  forth  unclouded  in 
his  brightness.  A  glorious  future  rose  to  her  vision,  in, 
which  she  saw  husband  and  children  bowed  with  her 
around  the  family  altar,  blessing  God  for  her  presence, 
who  had  led  them  to  happiness  and  peace.  The  thought 
of  Ally  and  Louis,  also,  came  to  cheer  her,  and  she 
realized  that  she  had  still  many  mercies.  Her  husband 
no  longer  appeared  unsympathizing,  and  she  rejoiced 
that  his  heart  was  spared  the  pang  he  would  feel  if  ac- 
quainted with  the  conduct  of  his  daughters.  She  re- 
membered, too,  the  respectful  manner  of  Mr.  Sydney, 
who  had  from  the  first  treated  her  with  the  affection  of 
a  brother ;  and  also  the  appreciating  glances  of  kindness 
and  sympathy  from  Uncle  Stephen.  She  laid  these 
things  up  in  her  heart,  as  preventives  to  the  recurrence 
of  the  overwhelming  despondence  she  had  heretofore  ex- 
perienced ;  and  seated  herself  at  her  desk  to  write  to 
her  daughters.  The  two  small  cases,  containing  the 
valuable  gifts,  lay  before  her.  She  opened  one,  and 
taking  out  the  bracelet,  touched  a  spring  and  disclosed 
to  view  a  miniature  of  herself,  exquisitely  painted  on 
ivory.  Though  very  minute,  yet  the  features  were  per- 
fect, and  the  expression,  which  met  her  own,  was  full  of 
earnest  affection. 

Mrs.  Stanley  was  an  artist,  though  the  knowledge  of 
her  skill  was  as  yet  a  profound  secret  in  her  family.  She 
had  copied  these  from  her  miniature  executed  by  a  skil- 
ful artist.  She  again  compared  them,  and  was  more 


IN    DISGUISE. 


than  ever  satisfied  of  her  success.  She  replaced  the  toy. 
and  with  a  heart  full  of  the  best  wishes  for  her  daugh- 
ters, from  which  every  hard  thought  had  flown,  she  com- 
menced the  following  epistle  :  — 

"  My  dearly  beloved  daughters,  — 

"  When  you  unpack  your  trunks,  you  will  each  find 
a  small  casket,  of  the  contents  of  which  I  beg  your  ac- 
ceptance. From  a  casual  remark  I  heard  from  you, 
Emma,  about  your  choice  of  trinkets,  I  hope  these  will 
not  be  unacceptable.  The  thought  that  you  will  some- 
times, when  wearing  them,  think  of  me  as  one  who 
would  gladly  sacrifice  her  own  comfort  fo'r  your  good  ; 
who  entered  your  pleasant  home  with  a  heart  fully  re- 
solved to  do  you  good,  and  to  love  you  as  my  own  daugh- 
ters, will  fully  and  richly  repay  me  for  procuring  them. 

"  By  touching  a  small  spring  under  the  first  letter  ot 
your  name,  you  will  see  that  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to 
give  you  a  miniature  of  myself.  When  you  look  at  it, 
remember  that  your  mother  will  never  forget  you  ;  but 
that  morning  and  evening  her  prayers  will  ascend  to 
Heaven  in  your  behalf. 

"  MARION  T.  STANLEY." 

Having  sealed  the  letter,  she  gave  it  with  the  caskets 
to  Mrs.  Carey,  requesting  her  to  pack  them  into  the 
trunks  unknown  to  the  young  ladies.  The  good  woman 
promised  compliance,  though  she  said  gravely,  with  a 
shake  of  the  head,  "  I'm  afraid  they  don't  deserve  such 
kindness  at  your  hands." 

Mrs.  Stanley  then  joined  her  husband  and  the  family 


34  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

in  the  parlor,  with  a  countenance  so  full  of  peace  and 
tranquillity  that  some  of  them  at  least  looked  upon  her 
with  amazement ;  and,  when  she  replied  to  a  casual 
remark  of  Emma's,  her  tone  was  so  full  of  motherly 
tenderness  that  the  eyes  of  the  young  lady  were  suffused 
with  tears.  At  the  close  of  the  evening,  when  her  sisters 
left  the  room,  she  remained  behind,  and,  putting  her 
arms  for  one  moment  about  her  mother,  kissed  her  good 
night. 

O,  what  a  thrill  of  joy  and  gratitude  that  affectionate 
embrace  sent  through  the  loving  heart  of  the  young 
parent!  What  an  earnest  did  she  consider  it  of  her 
success  in  the  great  work  she  had  undertaken  ! 

There  was  one  present  who  rejoiced  with  her  in  this 
token  of  childlike  affection.  Quick  as  thought,  Uncle 
Stephen  pushed  his  goggles  to  the  top  of  his  head,  that 
he  might  see  more  distinctly ;  and  when  she  turned  to 
leave  the  room,  with  his  usual  expressive  cough  he 
called  "  Emma ! "  in  a  tone  so  different  from  any  she 
had  ever  heard  from  him,  that  she  could  scarce  believe 
the  sound  came  from  his  lips ;  but,  on  her  approaching, 
he  said,  with  emotion,  "  God  bless  you,  child !  you  may 
yet  be  worthy  of  the  name  of  your  sainted  mother. 
There,  go ! "  he  added,  impatiently,  seeing  her  stand 
gazing  at  him  in  wonder;  "what  are  you  stopping  for?" 

With  an  impulsive  motion,  the  young  girl  caught 
Uncle  Stephen's  hand,  pressed  it  to  her  lips,  and  darted 
from  the  room.  She  did  not  wait  to  see  the  effect  of 
her  action. 

"  What  an  old  fool  I  am,"  grumbled  Ui  c)e  Stephen, 
fumbling  impatiently  for  his  handkerchief.  "  One  would 


IN    DISGUISE.  35 

think  I  hud  never  been  kissed  before.  But  I  should  like 
to  know  who  there  is  to  feel  for  her,  if  I  don't ; "  and, 
with  this  apology,  he  allowed  his  tears  to  flow  unre- 
strained until  he  had  overcome  his  sudden  emotion. 

When  Mrs.  Stanley  at  length  advanced  to  bid  hiri; 
good  night,  having  taken  care  to  keep  out  of  his  sight, 
he  muttered,  "  Bad  girls,  very ;  what's  to  become  of 
them  ?  " 

"  O,  no  !  "  she  exclaimed,  eagerly  putting  the  trumpet 
to  her  mouth.  "  Emma  has  a  warm  heart.  She  will 
make  a  fine  character  yet." 

"  Humph  !     Edith,  too,  perhaps  ?  " 

A  shade  passed  over  the  animated  countenance  of  the 
lady  as  she  answered,  slowly,  "  Edith  is  high-tempered ; 
but  she  is  still  young,  and,  with  proper  training,  may  yet 
do  well.  She  has  a  great  deal  of  energy." 

"  Charity  covers  a  multitude  of  sins,"  muttered  the  old 
gentleman  in  a  low  tone.  Then,  speaking  aloud,  "  Alice 
is  worth  the  whole  troop.  She's  honest  —  well,  good 
night,  ma'am." 

She  held  out  her  hand,  which  he  at  first  appeared  not 
to  notice,  when  he  suddenly  turned  again,  saying,  "  Do 
you  know  how  to  pray  ?  " 

Marion's  cheek  flushed  as  she  bowed  assent 

"  Pray,  then  ;  pray  for  them  all.     They  need  it." 


CHAPTER    IV. 

u  Tho'  losses  and  crosses 

Be  lessons  right  severe, 
There's  wit  there,  ye'll  get  there 
Ye'll  find  nae  other  where."  —  Burns, 

UNCLE  STEPHEN  and  Maria  Forsyth  vere  tlic  only 
children  of  their  parents.  Their  father  died  before  Ste- 
phen's remembrance,  leaving  them  to  be  t^e  comfort  and 
support  of  their  widowed  mother.  Maria  was  five  years 
older  than  her  brother,  and  dearly  did  he  love  his  sister, 
whose  whole  affections  were  lavished  upon  her  afflicted 
parent  and  the  little  pet  of  the  household.  Eight  years 
after  the  death  of  their  father,  these  orphan  children  were 
called  to  follow  the  remains  of  their  mother  to  the  house 
appointed  for  all  living.  And  now  Stephen  would  have 
been  disconsolate  indeed,  had  it  not  been  for  his  oejoved 
sister,  who  watched  over  him  with  almost  a  mother's 
solicitude  and  tenderness.  To  her  teachings,  warning 
and  entreaVi  he  was  indebted,  under  the  care  of  his 

•/  '  * 

heavenly  Father,  for  preservation  from  many  of  the  follies 
and  vices  of  youth.  Her  finger  pointed  to  the  paths  of 
virtue  and  holiness  as  the  only  paths  of  peace.  Her 
prayers  ever  ascended  to  God  that  the  good  Spirit  might 
incline  him  to  walk  in  them. 

At  the  age  of  twenty,  he  left  the  shores  of  his  native 
land  for  a  lucrative  situation  in  India.  His  sister  had 
been  married  for  several  years,  and  had  two  children  — 

S6 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGKL    IN    DISGUISE.  37 

Emma,  who  afterwards  became  Mrs.  Stanley,  and  Ste- 
phen, named  for  himself.  It  was  a  dreadful  affliction  lor 
her  to  part  with  her  brother,  for  he  had  no  expectation 
of  returning  for  many  years,  until  he  had  made  a  fortune 
sufficiently  large  to  secure  his  independence.  The  strong- 
est hope  of  his  sister  for  his  speedy  return  centred  upon 
the  tearful  girl  who  clung  so  convulsively  to  him  at  part- 
ing, begging  him  in  heart-rending  terms  not  to  leave  her. 

"  Keep  up  good  courage,  Isabel,"  said  the  young  man, 
as  he  tried  to  force  back  the  tears  he  considered  it  un- 
manly to  shed.  "  I  shall  soon  make  a  fortune,  and  then 
we  will  have  a  beautiful  home,  and  I  will  never  leave 
you.5' 

Alas,  alas,  for  human  calculations !  Before  SAX  years, 
he  had  heard  first  of  the  death  of  his  sister  and  of  her 
only  son,  and  then  of  the  marriage  of  his  Isabel.  The 
latter  event  threw  him  into  a  state  of  such  gloom  and 
despondence  that  he  lost  more  than  half  of  the  fortune 
he  had  accumulated ;  and,  after  living  on  a  year  or  two 
in  melancholy  amounting  almost  to  insanity,  he  returned 
to  his  native  country,  hardly  thirty  years  old,  but  bent 
and  wrinkled  like  an  old  man.  His  whole  character  had 
undergone  a  change.  From  being  light  of  heart,  trust- 
ing and  hopeful,  he  was  morose,  distrustful,  and  despair- 
ing. About  six  months  after  his  return,  he  was  called 
to  the  bedside  of  the  one  whom  he  believed  had  violated 
her  solemn  vows  to  him,  but  who  was  now  a  widow  and 
dying.  She  revealed  to  him  a  plot  of  villany  by  which 
she  had  been  led  to  believe  him  married  in  India,  and 
that,  shocked  by  his  want  of  fidelity,  and  hopeless  of  the 
future,  she  had  given  her  hand  to  Mr.  Sydney,  a  man 
4 


38  THF     HOUSEHOLD    ANGKL 

whom  she  soon  found  had  deceived  her,  not  only  with 
regard  to  her  beloved  friend,  but  as  to  his  own  character. 
He  had  taken  delight  in  her  distress,  when  he  boasted  to 
her  of  the  forged  account  of  Mr.  Forsyth's  marriage, 
which  he  had  caused  to  be  inserted  in  the  papers.  She 
confessed  her  sin  in  having  married  a  man  whom  she  did 
not  love,  and,  with  panting  breath,  begged  his  forgiveness 
for  the  injury  she  had  done  him. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the  nature  of  Mr. 
Forsyth's  feelings  as  he  sat  by  the  couch  of  the  dying 
woman,  and  heard  her  confession,  interrupted  as  it  was 
by  groans  and  tears  as  she  witnessed  the  agitation  of 
the  bowed  man  sitting  before  her,  and  learned  from  it 
that  his  grief  had  even  surpassed  her  own. 

"  Isabel,  my  own  Isabel ! "  he  exclaimed,  his  voice 
choking  with  emotion,  "  you  must  not  die.  We  may 
yet  be  happy.  God  forgive  me  for  having  doubted  you ; 
nay,  for  having  distrusted  his  goodness.  O,  my  Isabel, 
live  for  me,"  he  continued,  grasping  her  pale,  emaciated 
hand  tightly  in  his  own.  "  I  cannot  give  you  up." 

The  dying  woman  lay  gasping  for  breath,  almost  terri- 
fied at  the  wildness  of  his  manner.  At  length  she  spoke 
feebly.  "  It  is  too  late ;  I  am  even  now  dying.  But 
you  can  grant  me  one  favor ;  then  I  can  lay  my  body 
in  the  grave  in  peace." ' 

Overpowered  with  grief,  Mr.  Forsyth  could  oi.ly  bow 
his  assent. 

"  Take,  then,  my  boy,  my  only  child.  I  give  him  to 
you.  He  will  be  the  heir  to  considerable  property.  I 
wish  you  to  be  his  guardian,  his  father.  Clarence,  my 
child,  come  here  '  " 


IN    DISGUISE.  39 

The  boy  advanced  from  the  farther  end  of  the  apart- 
ment,  where,  unobserved,  he  had  witnessed  all  that  had 
passed.  His  countenance  bore  the  marks  of  violent  agi- 
tation, but  with  a  maturity  beyond  his  years  he  restrained 
his  feelings,  and  put  his  hand  into  his  mother's.  "  Thip, 
Stephen,"  she  faltered,  "  has  been  my  daily  prayer,  that 
God  would  spare  my  life  until  I  could  tell  you  how 
truly,  faithfully  I  have  loved  you,  and  give  into  your  care 
my  best  earthly  treasure.  Will  you  take-  him  ?  " 

Mr.  Forsyth  opened  his  arms,  and,  at  a  motion  from 
his  mother,  Clarence  advanced,  and  was  clasped  tightly 
to  the  heart  of  her  early  friend.  u  Isabel,"  said  he,  after 
a  pause  of  intense  emotion  to  both  of  them  ;  "  Clarence 
is  henceforth  my  own  son.  Why  will  you  not  give  me  a 
legal  right  to  the  name  ?  " 

Isabel  started. 

"  Why  not  give  me  the  bliss  of  calling  you  mine,  for 
the  brief  remainder  of  your  life.  Even  now  God  has 
power  to  send  health  through  your  enfeebled  frame.  Oh, 
God  !  "  he  added,  throwing  himself  upon  his  knees,  "  J 
will  bless  thee  all  my  days !  " 

A  beautiful  smile  of  affection  played  about  the  mouth 
of  Mrs.  Sydney,  as  she  put  her  hand  in  his. 

"  You  will !  you  do  consent !  "  he  exclaimed,  joyfully , 
"  you  will  yet  be  my  own  bride,  my  wife  ! "  and  he 
warmly  pressed  the  cold  hand  to  his  lips,  while  his  frame 
shook  with  struggling  emotion. 

"  Yes,  Stephen,  if  my  life  is  spared  until  morning,  I 
will  be  your  wife.  I  will  not  try  to  conceal  from  you  that 
it  will  give  me  a  pleasure  I  never  looked  for  in  this  world 


40  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

Ther.  Jlarence  will  be  your  own  —  your  —  own."  She 
repeated  the  words  faintly,  as  if  falling  asleep. 

"  Isabel !  Isabel ! "  he  almost  shouted,  as  she  sank  back 
fainting ;  "  You  will  not  leave  me  thus."  He  pulled  the 
bell  violently,  when  the  nurse  entered  from  an  adjoining 
chamber.  Mrs.  Sydney's  countenance  so  nearly  resem- 
bled death^that  Mr.  Forsyth  rushed  wildly  from  the  room, 
utterly  unable  to  restrain  his  grief. 

By  the  application,  however,  of  powerful  stimulants, 
she  soon  revived,  and  looked  anxiously  around.  A  shiver 
seized  her,  and  she  put  her  hand  to  her  head  aa  if  fearful 
she  had  been  dreaming. 

"  He  has  gone  below,"  said  the  kind  nur*p,  observing 
her  look  of  distress.  "  I  will  call  him." 

Clarence,  who  had  been  weeping  bitterly,  advanced  to 
the  bed-side,  while  she  hastened  to  the  parlor,  where  she 
found  the  afflicted  man  leaning  on  the  table,  with  his  face 
buried  in  his  hands.  He  started  up  as  she  entered,  and 
gazed  at  her  with  horror,  as  if  he  shrank  from  the  tidings 
he  feared  she  had  come  to  impart.  u  Mrs.  Sydney  has  re- 
vived," she  said,  "  and  seems  anxious  to  see  you." 

He  started  forward,  when  she  detained  him.  "  It  is 
necessary  to  be  more  calm.  It  would  not  do  for  you  to 
see  her  thus.  Can  you  command  your  feelings  ?  " 

"  I  can,  I  will,  I  must  be  calm  ;  "  he  answered,  impa« 
tient  at  the  momentary  delay. 

During  the  night  the  pulse  became  more  feeble.  Tho 
last  sands  of  life  were  ebbing  fast  away ;  but  her  mind 
remained  clear,  and  the  dying  woman  besought  her  friend 
to  look  to  the  Saviour,  in  whom  she  trusted  for  support 
under  this  trial.  Again  and  again  she  thanked  her  heav 


IN    DISGUISE.  41 

enly  Father  for  his  gracious  answer  to  her  prayer,  and  for 
providing  a  protector  for  her  orphan  child. 

She  repeatedly  assured  him  that  he  had  ever  occupied 
the  first  place  in  her  earthly  affections,  and  expressed  her 
gratitude  for  his  forgiveness  and  renewed  affection.  To- 
ward morning  in  feeble  accents  she  once  more  commit- 
ted Clarence  to  his  care,  exhorting  him  to  bring  up  her 
child  "  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord."  She 
then  told  her  son  to  remember  his  mother's  dying  words, 
u  Fear  God  and  keep  his  commandments,  obey  and  love 
Mr.  Forsyth  as  your  father,"  and,  pointing  upward,  she 
whispered,  "meet  —  me — there."  Her  eyelids  closed, 
while  a  heavenly  smile  of  hope  and  trust  rested  upon  her 
features.  When  the  morning  sun  arose,  his  earliest  rays 
fell  upon  the  lovely  countenance  of  Mrs.  Sydney,  pale 
and  motionless  in  death. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  the  almost  frantic  grief 
of  the  afflicted  lover,  who  felt  as  if  bereaved  of  all  that 
rendered  life  desirable  ;  but  will  pass  over  a  period  of  five 
years.  During  this  time  Mr.  Forsyth  remained  in  his 
native  country,  settling  the  affairs  of  Mrs.  Sydney,  and 
occupying  himself  in  the  care  and  education  of  her  son. 
At  the  time  of  his  mother's  decease,  Clarence  was  nearly 
three  years  old.  Though  at  that  period  far  from  prepos- 
sessing in  his  personal  appearance,  his  guardian  found 
him  possessed  of  an  extremely  affectionate  heart,  and  of 
a  warm  and  impulsive  nature.  When  he  came  undei 
the  care  of  Mr.  Forsyth,  (or  Uncle  Stephen,  as  he  had 
been  taught  to  call  him),  he  had  evidently  known  but  little 
restraint,  and  was  self-willed  and  violent  in  his  temper, 
when  excited.  But  his  passion  soon  passed  away,  and 
4 


42  THE    HOUSE!  OLD    ANGEL 

was  succeeded  by  a  perfect  torrent  of  self-reproach,  in 
which  he  humbly  begged  forgiveness.  -Under  the  judic- 
ious management  of  Uncle  Stephen,  who  never  for  a 
moment  forgot,  in  his  care  of  the  boy,  his  mother's  dying 
words,  "  bring  him  up  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,"  Clarene*1 
became  all  that  the  fondest  parent  could  wish. 

At  the  expiration  of  that  time,  having  become  restless 
at  so  long  a  period  of  inactivity,  Uncle  Stephen  con- 
cluded once  more  to  go  to  India,  and  did  so,  taking  Clar- 
ence with  him,  having  remained  in  the  family  of  his 
niece,  Mrs.  Stanley,  for  the  last  six  mouths  of  his  stay  in 
the  country.  In  that  period  he  transferred  all  the  devoted 
affection  he  had  felt  for  his  sister,  to  her  child  ;  and  when 
he  left  her,  his  grief  nearly  equalled  that  he  had  experi- 
enced in  leaving  his  dear  Maria.  She  exhibited  a  tender 
affection  f.ir  Clarence,  and  begged  her  uncle  to  leave  the 
boy  under  her  care  ;  while  she  listened  with  pleased  in- 
terest to  her  uncle,  when  he  prophesied  that  his  ward 
would  some  day  become  a  distinguished  man,  and  claim 
a  relation  with  the  little  miss  who  was  now  clapping  her 
hands  in  ecstasy  at  the  sight  of  the  high  house  he  had 
made  with  her  blocks. 

At  that  time  Gertrude  was  only  two  years  old,  so  that 
ghe  remembered  nothing  of  the  brilliant  future  prophe- 
sied for  her.  But  Clarence  was  a  tall,  mature  boy  of 
eight,  and  while  he  seemed  only  intent  upon  amusing  his 
little  companion,  he  heard  and  remembered  all  that  was 
eaid.  In  the  years  which  had  intervened,  he  had  often 
called  to  mind  the  little,  fairy-like  figure  enticing  him  to 
play,  and  rewarding  him  with  a  s\\eet  kiss  from  her  coral 
lips,  until  she  was  associated  in  his  mind  with  all  that 


IN    DISGUISE. 


was  lovable  and  lovely.  After  his  return  io  America. 
six  years  before  Uncle  Stephen,  he  often  longed  to  visit 
Lindenwood  Hall,  and  renew  his  acquaintance  with  his 
young  companion,  of  whom  he  could  never  think,  except 
a?  a  bright,  laughing  child.  But  his  time  had  passed  so 
rapidly  in  college,  and  at  the  law  school,  that  he  had 
never  done  so.  When  Uncle  Stephen  announced  his 
intention  to  return,  and  spend  the  remainder  of  his  days 
in  his  native  land,  and  added,  that  if  it  was  agreeable  to 
the  family  of  his  nephew,  it  was  his  wish  to  live  with 
them  ;  it  is  not  strange  that  the  opportunity  thus  afforded 
of  seeing  once  more  one  who  had  been  a  part  of  his  daily 
as  well  as  nightly  dreams,  should  quicken  the  blood  in 
his  veins. 

After  the  letter  of  his  guardian  to  Mr.  Stanley,  he 
waited  impatiently  for  the  answer  ;  and  when  it  came, 
written  by  Gertrude,  he  evinced  so  much  pleasure  that 
Uncle  Stephen  looked  upon  him  with  astonishment. 

"  Don't  you  remember,  sir,"  said  the  young  man,  archly, 
"  you  assigned  this  young  lady  to  me  1  " 

"  Humph  !  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Stephen,  at  the  same 
time  chuckling  to  himself;  "  so,  young  man,  that's  the 
way  the  land  lies.  Well,  we  shall  see  ;  we  shall  see.1 
Though  he  would  by  no  means  have  acknowledged  it, 
yet  the  interest  displayed  by  Clarence  was  very  pleasing 
to  his  guardian.  But  he  determined  to  test  well  her 
character  before  he  trusted  her  with  the  happiness  of  one 
so  dear  to  him  as  his  adopted  son.  Of  some  of  the  meas- 
ures he  adopted  to  attain  that  end  we  will  speak  more 
hereafter.  To  tell  the  truth,  the  thought  that  his  residence 
his  ward  in  the  family  of  his  nephew,  might  result 


44  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

in  the  fulfilment  of  the  old  prophecy,  had  been  nc  slight 
inducement  to  him  to  make  such  an  arrangement.  So 
far  it  had  proved  satisfactory. 

From  their  first  introduction  Gertrude  had  been  mu<  h 
pleased  with  Mr.  Sydney,  and  in  his  presence  appeared 
all  that  was  amiable.  We  have  seen  he  was  much  pre- 
possessed in  her  favor,  so  that  there  appeared  every  prob- 
ability that  he  would  soon  be  deeply  in  love.  Whatever 
Uncle  Stephen  thought  of  her,  he  kept  his  opinion,  as 
yet,  strictly  to  himself. 


CHAPTER   V. 

v  The  seeds  of  first  instructions  are  dropped  into  the  deepest  furrows. 

Tupper. 

IT  was  now  mid  winter.  After  the  departure  of  Em- 
ma and  Edith,  the  family  spent  more  of  their  time  in 
the  large  sunny  parlor.  The  Hall  was  warmed  through- 
out by  a  furnace ;  but  in  this  apartment  there  was 
always  a  cheerful  fire  blazing  on  the  marble  hearth.  On 
one  side,  close  in  the  corner,  stood  the  easy-chair  which 
had  been  assigned  to  Uncle  Stephen.  Here  he  read, 
wrote  or  slept,  just  as  he  felt  inclined.  Here,  too,  after 
dinner,  he  submitted  to  the  tricks  of  his  favorite  ani- 
mals, allowing  them  to  take  liberties  which  he  would 
have  highly  resented  from  any  human  being. 

In  the  recess,  formed  by  the  bow-window,  could  be 
seen  at  almost  any  hour  of  the  day,  Louis  with  his 
young  companion.  The  window  was  large,  and  alford- 
ed  ample  room  for  the  small  table  which  stood  partially 
in  front  of  the  low  divan  occupying  the  space.  Heavy 
curtains  fell  in  rich  folds  from  the  arch  above,  which 
were  usually  looped  aside  to  admit  the  cheerful  rays  of 
the  sun ;  but  by  allowing  them  to  fall  to  the  floor,  the 
young  people  could  be  entirely  secluded  from  observa- 
tion. A  table  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room  near 
which  Mr.  Stanley  usually  sat,  when  not  in  his  study. 
Here  also  his  wife  occupied  herself  with  her  reading 
or  sewing. 

45 


46  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

The  greater  part  of  every  day  Clarence  remained  in 
his  own  apartment,  busy  in  his  studies ;  but  whenever 
he  appeared  below,  his  presence  was  hailed  with  joy  not 
only  by  the  children,  but  by  the  older  members  of  the 
family.  During  his  leisure  hours  Gertrude  was  as  usual 
in  the  parlor,  engaged  with  her  drawing  or  embroidery. 

Though  Alice  was  within  a  few  days  of  the  age  of 
Edith,  yet  both  in  person  and  manner  she  appeared 
several  years  younger,  and  could  hardly  have  b^en  sup- 
posed to  be  much  older  than  Louis.  Her  form  was 
slight,  and  her  motions  as  graceful  as  those  of  a  young 
fawn.  Her  hair  was  dark  auburn,  and  being  Darted 
smoothly  on  her  brow,  hung  in  rich  curls  upon  her  neck 
and  shoulders.  Her  complexion  was  of  transparent 
whiteness,  the  blue  veins  being  distinctly  visible,  while 
the  changing  color  was  ever  mantling  her  cheek.  Her 
eyes,  when  she  was  quiet,  were  hazel,  and  had  a  soft, 
dreamy  expression,  though  when  she  was  animated,  they 
kindled  an  1  dazzled  by  their  dark  brilliancy.  But  the 
greatest  charm  in  the  face  of  Alice  was  her  earnest 
truthfulness,  the  calm  purity  of  expression.  And  her 
countenance  was  a  true  index  of  her  character;  for  though 
a  simple,  artless  child  of  thirteen  years,  she  was  striving 
after  holiness.  Every  morning,  in  her  room,  which  opened 
out  of  the  nursery  occupied  by  Louis,  she  asked  her 
Father  in  Heaven  to  guide  all  her  thoughts,  words  and 
actions  through  the  day,  and  to  keep  her  from  all  evil. 
When  tempted  to  indulge  in  unkind  feelings,  she  remem- 
bered that  an  omniscient  Eye  was  watching  over  her, 
and  she  looked  up  for  strength  to  overcome.  She  was 
mturally  quick  to  feel  when  wronged,  and  sometimes 


IN    DISGUISE 


her  eye  flashed,  and  bitter  words  of  retaliation  rose  to 
her.  lips,  but  she  suppressed  them,  and  in  one  moment  her 
passion  subsided,  and  she  was  able  to  speak  calmly  and 
peaceably.  Her  companions  often  wondered  at  her  self- 
control,  not  realizing  the  source  to  which  she  looked  fo 
strength.  Louis  considered  her  the  impersonation  of  al. 
goodness,  and  her  word  as  sacred.  Noi  was  he  alone 
in  this.  If,  as  was  often  the  case,  any  difficulty  aws*- 
between  the  sisters,  she  was  often  referred  to  by  one  o> 
another,  and  her  statement  was  received  with  perfco' 
confidence. 

Mr.  Stanley  had  kept  his  promise  to  his  first  wife,  and 
so  far  Alice  had  received  equal  advantages  with  his  own 
children.  She  had  regularly  attended  the  Academy  in 
the  village  with  Emma  and  Edith.  In  their  absence 
Louis  was  so  dependent  upon  his  little  friend  for  com- 
pany, that  his  father  was  puzzled  to  know  what  to  do 
with  her.  Mrs.  Stanley  proposed  laying  out  a  simple 
course  of  study  for  them  through  the  winter,  to  be  pur- 
sued under  her  instruction  ;  but  her  husband  objected 
entirely  to  the  confinement  this  would  cause  her,  and  she 
yielded  to  his  argument  that  lessons  in  order  to  be  of 
use,  ought  to  be  regular.  As  her  time  was  not  at  hr' 
own  command,  this  -regularity  could  not  be  obtained 
She.  then  proposed  that  Gertrude  should  attend  to  them, 
but  when  asked  by  her  father  to  undertake  the  task,  she 
at  once  declined,  saying  she  had  neither  talent  nor  in- 
clination for  school-keeping.  But  at  length  arrange- 
ments were  made  which  proved  in  the  highest  degree 
satisfactory  to  both  parents  and  scholars. 

Happening  to  be  sitting  in  the  parlor  one  day 


45  THE     HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

Uncle  Stephen  and  Mrs.  Stanley,  Clarence,  who  sat  react- 
ing the  daily  paper,  while  the  old  gentleman  was  talcing 
his  siesta  in  his  chair,  had  his  attention  arrested  by  a 
monotonous  sound  from  behind  the  curtain.  His  earnest 
look  of  inquiry  as  he  started  from  his  paper,  and  leaned 
forward  to  listen,  brought  a  smile  to  the  mouth  of  Ma- 
rion, who  said  in  a  low  voice,  "  It  is  Ally  reciting  her 
ni story  lesson  to  Louis.  The  child  is  very  fond  of  study." 
She  advanced  to  the  window,  arid  putting  aside  the  heavy 
folds,  peeped  cautiously  into  the  recess,  then  motioned 
Clarence  to  her  side. 

Sitting  near  each  other  on  the  divan,  the  children  were 
so  intently  occupied  they  did  not  perceive  the  observers. 
Alice  was  repeating  a  page  of  history,  which  she  did 
with  such  purity  of  language,  and  such  an  entire  appre- 
ciation of  the  subject,  that  Clarence  was  delighted.  Her 
companion  sat  with  his  eyes  intent  on  the  page,  his  thin 
fingers  following  line  after  line,  as  she  went  on  with  the 
recitation.  But  his  face  was  flushed  with  excitement, 
and  his  brow  was  knit  as  if  weary  with  the  close  at- 
tention. 

Mr.  Sydney  returned  to  his  seat,  and  continued  for  a 
tong  time  to  gaze  abstractedly  into  the  fire.  At  length 
fee  asked,  "  Has  she  no  other  teacher  ?  " 

Mrs.  Stanley  shook  her  head,  and  then  related  to  him 
?er  own  wish  with  regard  to  them,  to  which  her  husband 
objected. 

"  Would  not  Gertrude  ?  ''  he  asked. 

"  She  did  not  feel  inclined,"  was  the  serious  reply. 

"  Well,  then,  for  want  of  a  better,  I  wTill  offer  my 
services." 


IN   DISGUSR.  4.* 

4  Are  you  in  earnest?"  inquired  Mrs.  Stanley,  with  ?t 
bright  smile. 

"  Entirely  so,  and  am  eager  to  enter  upon  my  task." 

"You  are  very  kind,"  she  replied,  earnestly.  "My 
husband,  as  well  as  myself,  will  be  under  great  obliga- 
tions to  you." 

"  I  fancy,"  he  responded,  laughing,  "  that  the  obligation 
will  be  on  my  side.  It  will  be  a  pleasant  recreation  for 
me.  Suppose  I  commence  at  once,  as  the  history 
lesson  appears  to  be  finished.  I  should  like  to  be 
installed  into  office  before  Mr.  Stanley  returns  from 
the  village." 

"  Alice,"  called  Marion,  "Alice.  !  " 

The  curtain  was  put  aside,  and  the  child  approached. 
"  How  should  you  like  a  tutor,  Ally  ?  "  asked  the  lady, 
taking  her  hand. 

"  I  don't  know,  ma'am,"  she  replied,  returning  the 
smile. 

"  Mr.  Sydney  has  kindly  proposed  to  be  your  tutor ; 
so,  if  you  like  the  plan,  he  will  commence  at  once." 

Ally  clapped  her  hands.  "  Mine  —  me  —  did  you  say 
me,  Mrs.  Stanley?" 

"  Yes,  I  said  you,  my  own  little  friend,  Alice  Carey," 
answered  Mrs.  Stanley,  kissing  tenderly  the  animated 
face,  as  she  gazed  so  earnestly  into  her  own. 

Alice  turned  around  to  Clarence,  as  if  to  thank  him. 
but  her  joy  was  too  gieat,  and  merely  saying,  "  O,  I 
must  tell  Louis,"  she  bounded  to  his  side. 

But  the  young  man  needed  no  words.     The  look  of 
delight  which  sparkled  in  every  feature  told  plainly  enough 
how  she  regarded  the  proposition.     In  one  moment  she 
5 


50  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

returned,  and,  advancing  to  the  side  of  her  new  teachei 
said,  "  Will  you  please  to  let  Louis  recite  too  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Louis  too,"  he  answered,  for  one  instant  detaiu- 
ing  her  to  gaze  into  her  bright  face.  He  had  nevci 
before  thought  her  so  beautiful,  and  it  was  a  pleasant 
sight  to  look  upon. 

Louis  was  exceedingly  pleased  with  the  idea  of  going 
to  school  to  Clarence,  and  sat  quietly  by  while  Ally  ran 
for  her  books  to  show  him  how  far  she  had  advanced. 
He  proposed  to  her  to  take  a  rapid  review  of  her  studies, 
that  he  might  better  judge  what  course  she  ought  to 
pursue.  He  then  took  Louis  on  his  knee,  and  asked 
what  he  wished  to  study. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  go  on  with  geography  and  arith- 
metic," the  child  answered,  with  a  sigh  ;  "  but  it  makes 
my  head  ache  to  study  much,  and  I  don't  think  anybody 
but  Ally  could  make  me  understand  the  sums." 

"  What  study  do  you  like  best  ?  " 

".O,  I  like  to  hear  Ally  read  the  Bible  stories,  and  then 
she  asks  me  questions,  just  as  if  it  was  geography  or 
spelling.  I  can  answer  all  those  questions." 

Clarence  glanced  quickly  at  the  young  mother,  as  the 
boy.  having  answered  the  inquiry,  lay  back  against  nis- 
breast.  "  Well,  Louis,"  he  resumed,  trying  not.  to  betray 
his  emotion,  "  if  Ally  will  let  me  join  her  class,  you  and 
I  will  study  the  stories  in  the  Bible." 

Louis  started  from  the  kind  arm  thrown  around  him, 
and  looked  eagerly  in  Clarence's  face  ;  but,  finding  thai 
he  was  serious,  lay  back  again  with  a  calm  expression 
of  happiness  upon  every  feature. 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on,  Uncle  Stephen 


IN    DISGUISE.  51 

awoke,  and  was  gazing  from  one  to  another  to  ascertain, 
if  possible,  the  subject  which  so  much  interested  them 
As  soon  as  Alice  perceived  it,  she  sprang  to  his  side. 
44  O,  Uncle  Stephen !  "  she  exclaimed  through  the  tube, 
"  Clarence  is  going  to  be  my  teacher.  I'm  so  happy !  " 

"  Ahem  '•  happy,  are  you  ?  Well,  were  you  ever  other- 
wise ?  tell  me  that,"  he  added,  catching  her  hand  as  she 
wa?  dancing  away. 

«  What,  sir  ?  " 

44  Are  you  ever  unhappy  ?  " 

Alice  oast  down  her  eyes,  while  a  rosy  blush  spread 
over  her  cheek ;  but  as  Uncle  Stephen  was  intent  upon 
hearing  her  reply,  she  reluctantly  placed  the  ivory  to  her 
mouth,  and,  in  a  low  voice,  answered,  "  Yes,  sir." 

"  *  Yes,  sir,'  "  he  repeated  ;  "  and  I  should  like  to  know 
what  cause  you  have  to  be  unhappy." 

The  child  cast  a  hurried  glance  of  embarrassment 
around  the  room,  and  then  added,  "  Please,  Uncle  Ste- 
phen, I  had  rather  not  tell  now." 

"  But  I  wish  to  know  now.  You  needn't  fear  to  speak 
before  your  friends." 

She  looked  beseechingly  at  Clarence,  who  arose  and 
went  to  the  farther  end  of  the  apartment,  but  not  beyond 
the  sound  of  her  voice.  He  was  evidently  anxious  to 
hear  what  she  would  say. 

"  Well,  Ally,"  urged  the  old  gentleman,  impatiently. 

Though  the  tears  trembled  in  her  eyes,  she  answered, 
"  1  can't  help  being  sorry  when  I  have  done  wrong." 

This  reply,  so  different  from  what  had  been  expected, 
caused  a  momentary  silence  in  the  room. 

44  And  pray,  then,"  continued  the  interrogator,  "  why 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

* 

don't  you  leave  off?  Precious  little  need  you  have  of 
grief,"  he  murmured. 

"I  do  try  to,"  was  the  almost  inarticulate  response, 
while  a  tear  trickled  down  her  cheek  ;  "  but  I  often  get 
angry,  or  feel  wrong  in  here,"  and  she  laid  her  hand  upon 
her  heart. 

"  And  what  do  you  do  then  ?  " 

"  I  ask  God  to  take  away  my  naughty  feelings,  and  to 
forgive  me  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ." 

"  What  then  ?  " 

"  Then  I  feel  happier." 

"  How  often  do  you  feel  angry  ?  every  day  ?  " 

"  O,  no !  not  every  day,  not  as  often  as  I  used  to." 

«  Why  is  that  ?  " 

"  I  think  God  helps  me  to  keep  my  resolutions." 

"  Alice,"  inquired  Uncle  Stephen,  wiping  his  eyes, 
"  who  taught  you  to  pray  ?  " 

"  My  mother,  sir,  and  my  father,  before  he  died." 

"  When  you  pray  again,,  ask  God  to  bless  Uncle  Ste- 
phen," and  the  old  gentleman,  whose  fountain  of  tears 
seemed  ever  full,  no  longer  able  to  repress  his  emotion, 
wept  without  restraint. 

Mrs,  Stanley  was  much  affected  at  the  child,  who  had 
unconsciously  let  her  friends  into  the  secret  of  her  hope 
and  trust  in  her  Maker,  and  revealed  the  struggles  she 
had  with  her  own  sinful  nature,  and  her  entire  confidence 
in  her  Saviour  to  wash  away  her  guilt.  She  had  no 
opportunity  of  ascertaining  the  effect  this  had  upon 
Clarence,  for  he  had  walked  into  the  recess,  and  was 
complelely  hidden  from  her  view.  Alice  immediately 
left  the  room,  and  was  joined  by  Louis,  who  returned, 


IN-  DISGUISE. 


however,  in  a  few  moments,  and  whispered  to  Clarence, 
asking   him  if   he  would   please   tell  Uncle  Stephen  it 
made  Ally  cry  to  ask  her  so  many  questions. 
"  Is  she  crying  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  I  can't  get. her  to  speak,  she  sobs  so  much." 
"  Tell  your  mother,  and  ask  her  to  go  to  Alice." 
It  had,  indeed,  been  painfully  embarrassing  to  the  child 
to  be  obliged,  as  it  were,  to  proclaim  the  inward  conflicts 
which  had  only  before  been   known  to  her  God.     But 
from  this  time  the  dear  child  found  great  comfort  and 
support  in  the  sympathy  of  Mrs.  Stanley.     A  holy  tie 
bound  their  hearts  together. 

The  next  day  lessons  were  commenced  in  earnest,  and 
Alice  applied  herself  diligently,  determined  to  show  her 
teacher  how  much  she  prized  his  kindness. 

Mr.  Stanley  was  delighted  with  any  plan  whereby 
the  child  could  be  kept  with  Louis  without  injury  to 
herself. 

After  dinner,  Clarence  asked  Alice  to  come  to  his 
study  wdth  her  books,  and  Louis  to  accompany  her,  and 
bring  his  marbles. 

The  boy  looked  in  amazement.  "  Shall  I  need  them 
in  the  school  ?  " 

"  I'll  have  a  game  with  you  at  recess,"  replied  Clar- 
ence, laughing.  ','  Will  you  be  my  scholar  too  ?  "  he 
whispered  to  Gertrude. 

The  young  lady  smiled,  and   her  father  looked   much 
pleased,  as  he  always  did  ui   any  attention  to  his  daugh- 
ter from  Clarence.     "  In  what  branch  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  In  anything  you  please. ' 
«  In  drawing  ?  " 

0* 


54  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"  1  fear  I  should  make  but  a  poor  teacher  of  drawing 
I  am  but  a  fourth-rate  artist." 
'•  And  I  am  but  a  beginner." 

"  I  shall  be  but  too  happy  to  be  of  use ; "  and  so  say- 
ing he  followed  the  children,  where  he  was  equally  aston- 
ished and  delighted  at  the  progress  Alice  had  made,  and 
her  great  thirst  for  knowledge.  He  questioned  her  closely 
to  be  sure  that  she  fully  understood  the  subjects  of  her 
studies,  and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  his  first  pupil 
was  possessed  of  a  mind  of  uncommon  force  and  clear- 
ness. "  Now,  Louis,"  he  said  gayly,  after  he  had  given 
Ally  her  lesson  for  the  next  day,  let  us  have  a  game. 
How  many  marbles  have  you  ?  " 
"  A  whole  bag  full." 

"  Well,  don't  be  partial ;  divide  them  into  three  parts." 
Alice  put  out  her  hand  to  assist  him,  but  was  re- 
strained by  a  glance  from  her  teacher,  who  said,  pleas- 
antly, "  Be  fair  now,  Louis,  and  give  me  as  many  as  you 
do  Alice." 

"  I'll  divide  them  equally." 

These  three  parts  proving  too  many  for  the  game 
Ularence  wished  to  play,  Louis  divided  them  into  four, 
six,  eight,  twenty,  multiplying  and  dividing  until  he 
began  to  think  his  teacher  was  very  difficult  to  please. 
At  length  Clarence  appeared  satisfied,  and  the  game 
commenced,  when  the  teacher  became  the  pupil,  and 
begged  Louis  to  impart  some  of  his  skill.  The  three 
were  laughing  very  heartily,  when  Uncle  Stephen  ap- 
peared at  the  door. 

"  Hoity,  toity !  fine  school  this,"  he  muttered,  as< 
he  stepped  cautiously  over  the  ring  into  the  room. 


IN    DISGUISE.  55 

"  Pretty  work  for  a  young  lawyer.     Who's  scholar  now, 
pray  ?  " 

"  We  have  had  a  good  game,"  said  Clarence,  rising 
from  his  humble  position  on  the  floor.  "  Come,  Alice, 
now  it's  your  turn  to  be  teacher." 

"  She  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  exclaimed  Louis, 
eagerly  ;  "  but  if  you  want  her  to  hear  you  just  as  she 
does  me,  1  know  she  will,  because  she  says  she  likes  you 

the  best  of  any ." 

Alice  put  her  hand  across  his  mouth,  so  that  he  could 
say  no  more.     Clarence  gently  took  her  hand,  saying, 
"  Will  you  take  me  into  your  Bible-class,  Ally  ?  " 
"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  sir." 
"  Louis  says   you  hear  him  recite,  after   telling   the 
stories,  and  I  think  you  could  also  instruct  me." 

His  manner  was  very  serious,  and  the  poor  child  did 
not  know  what  to  say.  She  looked  so  much  embar- 
rassed that  he  continued  :  "  Perhaps  we  will  postpone 
our  Bible  lesson  until  Sabbath  afternoon,"  and  she  left 
the  room. 

"  Rather  think,"  said  Uncle  Stephen,  when  they  were 
alone,  "  you'll  get  as  much  as  you'll  give." 

"I  feel  that  i  shall  be  well  repaid,"  replied  Clarence; 
u  she  has  a  very  bright  mind.' ' 

"  And  a  very  pure  heart,"  added  his  companion. 
"  Strange,  how  often  she  reminds  me  of  my  sister." 

"What  kind  of  a  woman  is  her  mother?  I  can't 
make  much  of  her.  She  came  to  thank  me  for  the  in- 
terest I  took  in  her  child  ;  but  she  did  it  in  such  a  strange 
way,  that  I  could  hardly  understand  her." 


56  THE     HOUSEHOLD    ANGKL 

"  She  was  formerly  a  very  good  woman.  1  have 
hardly  scon  her  since  we  have  beerrhere." 

"  Mrs.  Stanley  told  me  she  thought  her  partially  in- 
sane. She  was  very  anxious  for  Edith  to  go  away,  say- 
ing she  ought  to  be  under  restraint,  as  she  never  was  a( 
home  ;  and  now  she.  is  constantly  fretting  that  Alice 
didn't  go  too.  She  told  Mrs.  Stanley  yesterday,  that  the 
first  wife  promised  that  Alice  sli.ou.ld  have  as  good  an 
education  as  her  own  daughters.  However,  she  seemed 
grateful  that  I  would  teach  her.  Poor  Alice !  Her  fate 
will  be  a  hard  one  if  she  should  be  deprived  of  her 
friends.  She  has  been  educated  like  a  lady,  is  refined 
and  cultivated  in  her  tastes,  and  therefore  but  ill-pre- 
pared to  struggle  with  the  world. 

"  Ahem !  we'll  see  to  that,"  said  Uncle  Stephen,  em- 
phatically. 

Weeks  flew  rapidly  by.  Alice  pursued  her  studies 
with  great  ardor,  while  Louis  took  lessons  in  arithmetic, 
geography,  and  grammar,  never  complaining  of  weari- 
ness, but  thinking  all  the  time  that  he  was  only  enjoying 
some  new  game.  Gertrude  had  commenced  her  lessons 
in  drawing,  but  found  no  interest  in  them  unbss  Mr. 
Clarence  Sydney  were  sitting  by  her  side  ;  and,  in  truth, 
he  appeared  nothing  loth  to  do  so.  He  patiently  taught 
her  the  same  lessons  day  after  day,  instructing  her  1o 
shade  a  little  heavier  here,  and  a  little  lighter  there. 
He  praised  her  success,  and  where  he  pointed  out  a  fault, 
he  did  it  so  tenderly,  that  she  was  almost  inclined  to 
commit  the  error  again.  On  the  whole,  Clarence  had 
never  passed  so  happy  a  winter,  and  he  loved  to  bring 
the  blushes  to  the  cheeks  of  Gertrude  by  telling  her  so. 


IN    DISGUISE.  51 

Mrs.  Stanley  alone  looked  pale  and  weary.  Her  coun- 
tenance had  gradually  assumed  a  seriousness  of  ex- 
pression, very  foreign  to  the  cheerfulness  she  exhibited 
when  she  first  came  to  Lindenwood.  Mr.  Stanley  no- 
ticed it,  and  it  annoyed  him.  He  supposed  it  to  result 
from  disappointment  in  her  connection  with  himself.  This 
rendered  him  somewhat  reserved  in  his  manner  toward 
her,  and  caused  her  to  retire  more  within  herself.  She 
usually  now  passed  the  morning  in  her  own  room,  and 
only  joined  the  family  when  they  were  all  together. 

Uncle  Stephen,  more  than  any  other  person,  appeared 
to  notice  the  change  in  Mrs.  Stanley,  and  conversed  with 
her  more  than  with  the  rest  of  the  family. 

One  day  when  Clarence  had  been  seated  near  Ger- 
trude, talking  with  her  in  a  low  voice  for  some  time,  she 
looked  up  and  perceived  the  eye  of  her  mother  fixed  upon 
them  with  a  sad,  grave  expression.  Soon  after,  the  young 
man  arose  and  left  the  room.  Gertrude  was  very  angry, 
and  began  to  talk  to  her  mother  in  a  reproachful  manner, 
saying,  "  I  have  seen  you  try  to  influence  Mr.  Sydney 
against  me,  and  take  every  means  to  prevent  our  being 
together.  When  we  are,  you  watch  us  with  Argus  eyes, 
as  if  you  begrudged  us  the  pleasure." 

"  You  are  angry,  Gertrude,"  responded  Mrs.  Stanley, 
*  or  you  would  not  talk  so.  I  have  never  indulged  such 

feeling  for  a  moment.  On  the  contrary,  I  have  been 
pleased  with  his  attention  to  you.  But  what  would  he, 
what  would  your  father  say,  to  hear  you  address  me  in 
such  a  manner  ?  '; 

"  Father,  indeed  !  "  exclaimed  Gertrude,  scornfully.  "  I 
fancy  father  has  enough  to  do  to  bear  his  own  trials! ' 


58  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"  To  what  trials  do  you  refer  ?  "  asked  her  mother,  net 
face  growing  very  pale. 

"  The  trial  of  finding  out  that  he  has  married  a  mere 
nobody  !  "  retorted  she,  angrily.  The  moment  she  had 
spoken,  the  young  girl  keenly  regretted  her  hasty  words, 
and  would  gladly  have  recalled  them ;  for  she  was  really 
frightened  at  the  result. 

Mrs.  Stanley  tried  to  speak,  but  was  unable,  and  fell 
back  faint  and  trembling  in  her  chair. 

Uncle  Stephen  started  from  his  seat,  exclaiming  an- 
grily, "  Begone,  girl !  What  have  you  been  doing  to 
your  mother  ?  Begone,  I  say  !  "  He  rang  the  bell  furi- 
ously. Mrs.  Carey  happened  to  be  in  the  house,  and 
when  she  heard  what  had  occurred,  came  directly  with 
sal-volatile  and  stimulants,  by  means  of  which  the  un- 
happy lady  soon  recovered  her  consciousness,  and  was 
assisted  to  her  chamber ;  and  the  old  gentleman  retired 
to  his  room  in  great  excitement,  muttering  as  he  went, 
"  What  fools  we  make  of  ourselves.  I'll  have  my  eyes 
open,  if  I  can't  hear.  Yes,  and  I'll  make  good  use  of 
them  after  this.  Begone,  sir!"  he  said,  to  one  of  the 
monkeys  that  had  escaped  from  his  confinement,  "  I've 
no  time  for  fooling." 

Clarence  thought  his  guardian  must  be  more  than 
commonly  absorbed  in  business,  when  he  stopped  from 
his  walk  across  the  room,  and  encountered  the  expression 
of  the  angry  man.  "  I  wanted  to  talk  with  you,"  he 
began,  "  upon  a  subject  intimately  connected  — 

"  Can't  attend  to  it,  sir,"  interrupted  Uncle  Stephen. 
u  Other  business  on  hand."  He  jerked  a  chair  from  the 
vail,  and  threw  himself  into  it,  where  he  sat  muttering 


IN    DISGUISE.  59 

unintelligibly  for  ten  minutes.  Though  his  companion 
listened  eagerly,  he  could  get  no  clue  to  the  cause  of  this 
sudden  anger.  He  left  him  reading  quietly  in  the  parlor, 
and  now  he  was  more  excited  than  he  ever  remembered 
to  have  seen  him.  At  length  Uncle  Stephen  said,  in  a 
subdued  voice,  "  Call  Alice  ;  I  want  Alice." 

"  Cannot  I  do  what  you  wish  ?  "  asked  Clarence,  ie- 
spectfully. 

"  I  feel  angry,  and  1  want  her  to  come  and  pray  for 
me." 

"  Dear  Uncle  Stephen,"  replied  the  young  man,  bow- 
ing reverently  before  him  ;  "  you  taught  me  to  pray. 
Can't  you  pray  now  ?  " 

Uncle  Stephen  made  an  effort  to  control  himself,  and, 
covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  sat  thus  for  a  time  in 
silence.  At  length  he  motioned  his  ward  to  sit  by  him, 
and  asked,  "  Did  you  want  my  advice  on  any  important 
subject  ? 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Clarence,  though  somewhat  embar- 
rassed. 

"  Well,  wait  until  to-morrow.  I'll  talk  with  you  then. 
One  piece  of  advice  you  need,  and  I'll  give  it  now : 
"  Keep  //our  eyes  open  !  " 

The  following  day  the  young  man  again  introduced 
the  subject,  and  wished  Uncle  Stephen's  approbation  of 
his  choice  of  a  companion,  telling  him  he  loved  Gertrude, 
and  believed  her  possessed  of  all  the  qualifications  he 
could  ask  to  make  him  happy. 

"  What  qualities  do  you  consider  necessary,  young 
man  ?  "  asked  Uncle  Stephen,  rather  gruffly. 

"  Why,  she  is  well  educated,  of  a  good  rnind,  has  an 


f>0  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

amiable  disposition,  and  —  well,  she  is  very  handsome 
and  very  lovely." 

"  Handsome  is  that  handsome  does,"  muttered  Uncle 
Stephen,  in  an  under  tone  ;  then,  speaking  aloud,  he  con- 
tinued, "  Well,  if  she  is  all  that,  I'll  settle  a  cool  hundred 
thousand  upon  her  the  day  you're  married !"  and,  tho 
goggles  being  off,  disclosed  his  eyes  twinkling  with  sup- 
pressed mirth. 

Clarence  arose,  stood  before  his  guardian,  and  began 
warmly  to  express  his  gratitude ;  but  Uncle  Stephen  cut 
him  short.  "  You've  got  first  to  prove  to  me  that  she  has 
these  qualifications." 

"  That  will  not  be  difficult,  I  think.  You  are  an  excel- 
lent judge  of  character.  How  long  will  it  take  to  prove 
this  to  you  ?  " 

"  Three  years,"  replied  the  old  gentleman,  decidedly. 

"  Three  years  !  "  repeated  Clarence,  with  dismay  de- 
picted on  every  feature. 

"  Not  a  day  less.  You  know  nothing  at.  all  of  her 
character.  Try  her,  prove  her  well.  If  she  comes  out 
scathless  from  the  trial,  I'll  give  her  to  you,  with  my 
blessing." 

It  required  many  arguments,  however,  to  persuade 
Clarence  that  he  was  not  perfectly  acquainted  with  the 
character  of  the  one  he  loved.  But  at  length  he  con- 
sented to  say  nothing  of  his  affection  to  the  object  of  it, 
but  to  do  as  his  uncle  wished,  and  watch  her  closely, 
fully  assured  that  he  should  find  her  in  reality  all  that  she 
was  in  appearance,  and  believing,  when  he  did  so,  that 
he  should  be  spared  so  long  a  term  of  probation. 

Uncle  Stephen  was  perfectly  satisfied,  and  gave  Clar- 


IN    DISGUISE.  61 

ence  his  hand,  saying,  "  That  is  enough.  I  can  depend 
upon  your  honor.  It  has  been  the  favorite  wish  of  my 
life,  since  I  adopted  you,  to  unite  you  with  one  of  my 
nieces." 

"  Surely,"  interrupted  his  ward,  "  there  can  be  no  com- 
parison between  Gertrude  and  her  sisters." 

"  I  acknowledge  Emma  is  not  so  prepossessing  in  her 
appearance  ;  but  she  may  have  a  good  heart,  and  Edith 
is  —  " 

"  A  very  shrew.     Deliver  me  from  the  taming  of  her." 


CHAPTER     VI. 

"  None  but  an  author  knows  an  author's  cares, 
Or  fa.ncy's  fondness  for  the  child  she  bears." 

Cowper. 

MRS.  STANLEY  did  not  leave  her  room  for  several  days , 
but  Alice  and  her  mother  were  unwearied  in  their  atten- 
tions. Mr.  Stanley  really  loved  his  wife,  and  he  went 
often  to  her  room  to  sit  by  her,  as  she  lay  weary  and 
faint  upon  her  couch  ;  but  every  time  he  did  so,  his  pres- 
ence seemed  to  add  greatly  to  her  distress,  and  caused 
her  tears  to  flow  more  freely.  He  knew  not  what  to 
think.  If  Edith  had  been  at  home,  he  would  have  sup- 
posed she  had  wounded  her  mother's  feelings.  It  could 
be  nothing  connected  with  his  children,  for  only  the  day 
before  she  was  taken  sick,  she  had  shown  him,  with  ap- 
parent pleasure,  a  letter  from  Emma,  with  whom  she 
kept  up  a  regular  correspondence  ;  and  in  it  the  young 
girl  expressed  much  affection  for  her  mother.  Alice  and 
Louis  were,  as  she  had  often  told  him,  a  real  comfort  to 
nrr.  He  would  as  soon  suspect  himself  of  intentionally 
wounding  the  feelings  of  his  wife,  as  of  believing  Ger- 
trude capable  of  it ;  for,  in  her  father's  presence,  she  was 
invariably  polite  to  her  mother.  As  day  after  day  passed 
without  abating  the  distress  of  his  wife,  he  at  length 
became  seriously  alarmed,  and  retired -to  his  study  to 
consider  what  he  had  better  do.  He  walked  back  and 
forth,  reviewing  his  married  life.  First  he  called  to  mind 

62 


THE    HOL'SKHOLD    ANGEL    IN    DISGUISE.  63 

the  years  he  had  lived  with  his  Emma  —  his  first  love  ; 
then  his  meeting  with  Marion.  How  lovely  she  had 
appeared  to  him.  He  could  distinctly  see  her  as  she 
looked  when  he  went  to  bring  her  to  Lindenwood.  Hou 
bright  and  happy  her  face  ;  how  warm  and  impulsive  he  r 
manner  !  But  all  was  now  changed.  Some  great  sorrow 
appeared  to  have  fallen  upon  her,  and  he  became  con- 
vinced it  was  connected  with  himself.  Could  he  have 
misunderstood  her  character  ?  Had  he  not  been  too 
much  absorbed  in  his  cares,  and  too  little  attentive  to 
her,  who  had  left  beloved  friends  and  delightful  society ! 
Ah  !  he  little  realized  how  cold  and  reserved  he  appeared 
to  Marion,  who  had  lived  in  the  closest  companionship 
and  confidence  of  her  father,  had  been  accustomed  to 
receive  his  morning  and  evening  caresses,  to  share  with 
him  every  joy  and  sorrow  which  filled  her  heart,  or  that 
this  coldness,  for  which  Gertrude  had  so  unfeelingly  ac- 
counted, was  breaking  her  heart. 

Having  in  vain  sought,  by  himself,  a  sufficient  cause 
for  the  sadness  and  depression  of  his  wife,  he  determined 
to  seek  her  once  more,  and  endeavor  to  regain  her  confi- 
dence. He  wrondered  he  had  not  before  done  this,  and 
immediately  ascended  to  her  chamber.  As  he  silently 
entered,  he  saw  her  sitting  in  an  easy-chair,  the  back  of 
which  was  toward  the  door.  He  had  taken  but  one  step 
into  the  room,  when  his  attention  was  arrested  by  her 
violent  sobs.  He  advanced  toward  her  ;  but  her  words 
left  him  powerless.  She  was  holding  a  miniature,  which 
he  could  see  was  richly  set,  to  her  lips ;  then  her  tears 
rained  upon  it  as  she  exclaimed,  in  heart-broken  accents, 
"  Oh  !  what  shall  I  what  can  I,  do  ?  Oh  !  that  my  aear 


64  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

father  were  alive  to  advise  me  !  "  Then,  again  and  again 
kissing  the  miniature,  she  sobbed  out,  "  And  I  loved  hire 
so  dearly  •  "  when,  starting  as  if  she  heard  a  sound,  she 
thrust  the  precious  treasure  into  her  bosom. 

He  had  heard  enough.  The  mystery  was  revealed 
Marion  loved  another.  He  returned  silently  to  his  study 
where  he  sat  for  a  time  with  his  face  buried  in  his  hands. 
He,  too,  asked  himself  again  and  again,  "  What  can  1 
do  ?  "  There  was  but  one  pers6n  in  the  family  who 
could  answer,  and  that  one  was  Alice.  Young  as  she 
was,  she  had  watched,  with  sympathizing  tears,  the  sor- 
row of  the  gentle  wife,  who  had  been  so  true  a  friend  to 
her.  She  had  heard  the  cruel  taunts  of  Gertrude^  and 
seen  their  withering  effect.  She  had  observed  the  slight 
misunderstandings  between  the  husband  and  wife, 
through  the  influence  of  the  same  person.  She  knew, 
too,  how  tenderly,  how  truly  Marion  loved  him,  and  how 
wounding  to  her  feelings  had  been  many  occurrences 
unnoticed  by  others.  But  Alice  could  say  nothing ;  she 
could  only,  by  her  winning  gentleness,  her  ardent  affec- 
tion, soothe  the  grief  which  she  could  not  remove. 

When  Mr.  Stanley  was  called  to  tea,  his  anger  had 
entirely  subsided.  His  love  and  pity  for  his  wife  deter- 
mined him  to  try,  at  least,  to  make  her  happy,  even 
though  she  loved  another. 

T\vo  days  later,  Marion  appeared  below.  Though 
extremely  pale,  yet  there  was  a  light  in  her  eye,  and  a 
look  of  firm  resolve,  which  had  not  shone  there  for  many 
weeks.  The  family  gazed  upon  her  with  wonder.  From 
this  time  she  gradually  gained  her  strength  ;  and,  though 
never  gay,  she  went  resolutely  on  in  the  performance  of 


•N    DISGUISE.  65 

her  duties.  With  the  exception  of  Gtrtrude,  none  of 
them  knew  the  cause  of  her  illness  ;  nor  did  she  under- 
stand the  secret  motive  which  now  enabled  her,  though 
born)  down  with  sorrow,  to  go  boldly  on. 

But  they  were  not  all  destined  to  remain  in  ignorance. 
Marion  needed  a  confidant,  and  she  chose  Uncle  Stephen. 
She  chose  wisely. 

One  day  after  dinner,  when  the  old  gentleman  had 
enjoyed  a  lively  game  with  Polio  and  Sally,  the  mon- 
keys, and  had  ordered  them  back  to  their  confinement, 
no  one  else  being  present,  Mrs.  Stanley  begged  him  to 
allow  her  to  go  to  his  room,  as  she  had  something  she 
wished  to  ask  him.  He  arose  at  once,  and  accompanied 
her  to  his  parlor  above  stairs,  when  he  unceremoniously 
dismissed  Clarence  and  his  pupils  to  the  room  below. 

Taking  a  low  seat,  Mrs.  Stanley  drew  it  near  him, 
where  she  could  conveniently  converse  through  the  tube, 
and  unfolded  her  plan  for  the  future.  She  confessed 
that  she  had  felt  a  weight  upon  her  spirits  ;  "  but,"  she 
added,  "  I  am  resolved  to  show  my  husband  I  am  not 
the  senseless  creature  I  am  told  he  deems  me.  God  has 
given  me  powers,  and  I  will  use  them.  I  have  already 
laid  out  a  plan  of  a  work  which  I  intend  to  write  ;  but, 
constituted  as  I  am,  it  is  necessary  for  me  to  have  a 
friend  to  whom  I  can  confide  my  plan,  talk  about  it, 
read  my  manuscript  as  I  write,  and  ask  for  revision. 
Will  you  be  that  friend  ?  Will  you,  for  the  time,  takrc 
the  place  of  the  father  I  have  lost  ?  " 

Uncle  Stephen  wiped  his  eyes,  used  his  handkerchief 
with  great  energy,  and  then  said,  "  I  will,  and  may  God 
bless  you  in  your  noble  resolve."  From  this  hour  the 
6* 


66  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

young  wife  found  a  true  friend  in  Uncle  Stephen.  Man) 
a  time,  when  weary  and  faint  in  well-doing,  did  she  seek 
his  room,  and  never  failed  to  receive  the  encouragement 
and  sympathy  which  she  needed.  Her  literary  labors 
were  of  benefit  to  her,  by  allowing  her  no  time  to  brood 
over  her  own  trials,  for  Gertrude,  though  more  cautions 
than  before,  yet  often,  by  her  unkindness,  brought  tears 
to  her  mother's  eyes. 

Mrs.  Stanley  was  often  at  a  loss  to  understand  her 
husband.  She  frequently  looked  up  to  meet  his  eye 
fixed  upon  her  with  sadness,  and  sometimes  as  if  he 
read  her  very  soul ;  and  at  such  times  she  was  conscious 
of  appearing  much  embarrassed. 

She  had  an  object,  and  was  determined  to  win  back 
the  love  she  supposed  she  had  lost. 

Early  in  the  spring,  the  whole  family  were  startled  by 
Uncle  Stephen,  who,  after  receiving  his  daily  packet  of 
letters,  opened  one  containing  intelligence  which  greatly 
excited  him.  He  sprang  from  his  chair,  threw  down  his 
speaking  trumpet,  overset  everything  which  stood  in  his 
way  to  the  door,  then  ran  up  stairs,  calling,  "  Clarence! 
Clarence  !  " 

It  was  not  more  than  fifteen  minutes  before  Clarence 
came  down,  equipped  for  a  trip  to  New  York,  saying, 
'*  Uncle  Stephen  intended  to  go,  but  he  has  at  lengih 
allowed  me  to  take  his  place."  He  merely  stopped  to 
say  good  bye,  and  a  few  whispered  words  to  Gertrude, 
before  he  hastened  away  in  order  to  reach  the  boat. 

Nothing  could  be  ascertained  from  Uncle  Stephen  as 
to  the  cause  of  Clarence's  sudden  departure,  or  the  time 
when  he  might  be  expected  to  return.  Gertrude,  in  her 


IN    DISGUISE.  6? 

anxiety,  even  condescended  to  employ  her  mother  to 
obtain  for  her  the  desired  information,  but  in  vain.  Tlie 
old  gentleman  was  restless  and  excitable  until  the  third 

O 

day  after  his  ward's  departure,  when  a  letter  was  received 
from  him  which  appeared  greatly  to  relieve  his  anxiety, 
though  he  said  not  a  word  of  its  contents.  After  this,  a 
letter  came  from  Clarence  every  day  for  more  than  two 
weeks,  until  one  morning  Uncle  Stephen  announced  to 
Mrs.  Stanley  that  Clarence  would  soon  return,  if  it 
would  be  convenient  for  them  to  receive  a  young  man 
with  him.  Assured  that  it  would,  he  then  told  her  that 
the  first  letter  he  received  was  from  a  physician  in  New 
York,  containing  intelligence  of  the  dangerous  illness  of 
a  young  man  whom  he  had  known  in  India.  He  had 
now  recovered  sufficiently  to  be  removed,  and  Clarence, 
impatient  to  return,  had  asked  permission  to  bring  him 
to  Linden  wood. 

Mr.  Stanley  answered  the  letter,  urging  them  to  come 
at  once.  He  also  asked  Clarence  to  take  the  care  of  his 
daughters,  who  were  to  return  from  school,  directing  him 
where  they  would  meet  him.  In  three  days  after  this, 
the  party  arrived,  consisting  of  Emma,  Edith,  Mr.  Syd- 
ney, and  Mr.  Huntington,  who  was  still  an  invalid. 
Uncle  Stephen  received  the  latter  with  the-affection  of  a 
parent. 

The  young  girls  could  hardly  express  their  pleasure  at 
being  once  more  at.  home.  Emma  was  really  warm  in 
her  embrace  of  her  mother  ;  and  Edith,  who  had  grown 
to  be  taller  than  her  sister,  appeared  much  improved. 
Her  father  and  mother  gazed  at  her  in  surprise.  She  no 
longer  seemed  a  child.  Her  hair,  which  she  had  formerly 


I)'-1  THE    HOUSEHOLD 

worn  braided  in  her  neck,  was  now  twisted  into  a  ki  ot. 
and  fastened  with  a  comb,  making  her  appear  like  a 
young  lady  of  seventeen.  While  at  school,  she  had 
been  much  praised  for  her  beauty;  and,  indeed,  her  lu.xu- 
riant  hair  and  brilliant  color  gave  her  some  claims  to  be 
considered  handsome.  She  kissed  Alice  as  she  would 
have  petted  a  child,  saying,  "  I  do  believe  you  will  never 
outgrow  that  baby  look." 

Marion  smiled,  and  hoped  not.  Louis  was  delighted 
to  see  his  sisters,  and,  while  Alfred  Huntington  remained, 
the  time  passed  pleasantly. 

Alice  went  on  with  her  lessons ;  and  her  teacher, 
willing  to  ascertain  whether  she  had  advanced  as  far  as 
Edith,  playfully  proposed  to  examine  the  latter  in  the 
branches  she  had  pursued  at  school.  There  was  no 
shade  of  diffidence  in  the  character  of  Edith,  and  she 
willingly  consented  that  either  he  or  his  friend  should  do 
so.  Young  Huntington  had  from  the  first  looked  with 
an  admiring  eye  upon  Edith,  so  free,  open  and  frank  she 
appeared.  He  compared  her  with  others  whom  he  had 
met,  and  thought  her  very  superior  to  them.  Clarence 
found  she  had  pursued  a  great  variety  of  studies,  and 
that  she  had  a  skilful  way  of  covering  her  deficiencies 
by  asking  questions  connected  with  the  subject.  To  an 
interested  observer  like  Mr.  Huntington,  this  appeared 
to  show  a  great  desire  for  knowledge  ;  and  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  express  his  admiration  in  looks,  if  not  in 
words.  But  upon  Mr.  Sydney  the  impression  was  dif- 
ferent. He  perceived  at  once  that  some  faculties  of  hei 
mind  were  very  mature,  that  she  had  a  smattering  of 
many  subjects,  but  in  force  and  thoroughness  could  not 


IN   DISGUISE.  69 

be  compared  with  Alice.  Edith  was  far  in  advance  of 
his  pupil  in  her  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  in  the 
variety  of  her  accomplishments  ;  yet  Alice  had  incom- 
parably the  advantage  in  the  ease  of  her  manners,  and 
in  the  winning  grace  and  modesty  of  her  expression. 
Mr.  Huntington  regarded  her  as  a  lovely  child,  but  as 
yet  he  had  found  no  opportunity  of  comparing  their 
dispositions. 

In  the  meantime,  Mrs.  Stanley  progressed  rapidly  with 
her  tale.  She  lived  in  it,  and  wove  into  it  many  scenes 
in  her  own  life  ;  and  so  full  was  it  of  thrilling  pathos, 
so  entirely  did  she  identify  herself  with  the  characters  of 
her  story,  that  many  pages  were  blotted  with  her  sympa- 
thizing tears,  while,  as  she  read,  Uncle  Stephen  laughed 
and  wept.  So  interested  did  he  become  in  this  tale  that 
he  could  allow  her  to  write  but  a  few  pages  before  she 
read  to  him.  His  approbation  stimulated  her  efforts, 
and  rendered  her  more  hopeful  of  success. 

After  remaining  at  home  a  month,  Emma  and  her 
sister  returned  to  school.  During  this  visit,  Mrs.  Stanley 
took  great  delight  in  the  society  of  Emma,  and  parted 
from  her  with  regret.  This  dear  child  confessed  that 
upon  her  first  receiving  the  affectionate  note  of  he? 
mother,  which  accompanied  the  valuable  bracelet,  she 
was  overcome  with  shame  and  mortification  at  her  un 
kindness,  and  that  she  then  determined  to  become  ai 
affectionate  and  dutiful  daughter.  While  at  home,  she 
listened  with  unaffected  delight  to  nurse  Carey's  account 
of  the  goodness  of  her  mother.  "  I  am  sure,"  said  the 
nurse,  as  she  was  in  Emma's  room  preparing  her  dresses 
for  her  return,  "  I  never  can  be  grateful  enough  for  the 


70  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

kindness  she  has  shown  Alice,  who  loves  her  more  hail 
any  other  person  living,  unless  it  be  Louis." 

"  Not  more  than  she  does  her  own  mother,"  urged 
Emma,  laughing. 

Putting  her  apron  to  her  eyes,  Mrs.  Carey  answered, 
M  You  know  she  would  have  felt  differently  if  I'd  brought 
her  up.  She  takes  naturally  to  the  family  where  she'a 
always  been  treated  like  a  jhild.  If  your  own  mother, 
who  was  so  fond  of  her,  had  lived,  she  couldn't  have 
been  more  kindly  cared  for." 

Emma  asked  her  mother  if  there  was  an  engagement 
between  Clarence  and  Gertrude,  adding,  "  She  will  tell 
me  nothing,  but  it's  easy  to  see  that  she  loves  him." 

"  I  think,"  replied  Marion,  "  there  is  an  understanding 
between  them,  though  there  may  not  be  any  positive 
engagement" 


CHAPTER    VII 

*  This  is  some  token  from  a  newer  friend  " — Shakspeare. 

As  the  warm  weather  came  on,  Lewis  failed  in  strength 
His  lessons  were  discontinued,  and  he  was  encouraged 
to  be  out  in  the  open  air.  His  father  purchased  a  small 
pony  for  his  exclusive  use  ;  but  the  boy  could  hardly  be 
persuaded  to  ride,  because  Alice  could  not  accompany 
him. 

It  was  a  mild,  pleasant  morning  in  the  latter  part  of 
May.  The  physician  on  the  previous  day  had  expressed 
his  wish  for  Louis  to  be  on  horseback  as  much  as  possi- 
ble; and  Mrs.  Stanley  was  trying  to  persuade  him  to 
overcome  his  languor,  rise  from  the  sofa,  and  go  out  into 
the  clear  air. 

"  If  Alice  could  go  too,"  he  began  as  usual,  when 
with  a  perfect  shout  of  delight,  the  person  named  came 
bounding  into  the  room.  She  was  breathless  with  her 
haste  and  joy,  and  catching  the  hand  of  the  sick  boy, 
pulled  him  quickly  to  the  window.  There  stood  the 
Shetland  pony,  and  by  its  side  a  beautiful  white  horse, 
saddled  and  bridled,  pawing  and  stamping  with  impa- 
tience at  the  delay. 

Louis  gazed  at  the  horse,  and  Alice  gazed  at  Louis 
when,  with  a  spring  from  the  floor,  she  exclaimed,  "that's 
niine,  dear,  dear  Louis!  Now,  won't  we  have  a  fine 
lime?  Oh!  how  very  glad  I  am!" 

71 


72  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANOFL 

"  But  where  did  it  come  from  ? ''  asked  Mrs.  Stanley, 
who,  with  the  whole  grorp,  had  approached  the  front 
window. 

"  A  h'kely  story  ! "  exclp.imed  Gertrude,  scornfully. 
K  What  makes  you  think  it  is  yours?"  she  added, 
mickly  changing  her  tone,  as  she  saw  the  eyes  of  Clar- 
ence fixed  upon  her  in  astonishment. 

"  Because  a  m?»n  brou^Uc  it,  and  the  letter  said  so," 
epiied  Alice,  her  wh^le  countenance  beaming  with  ani- 
mation. 

"  What's  all  this  about  ?  "  inquired  Uncle  Stephen, 
'coking  at  Clarence  for  an  explanation. 

The  young  man  smiled  as  he  pointed  to  Alice,  who 
eagerly  took  the  trumpet  and  said,  joyfully,  "  Oh,  Uncle 
Stephen !  somebody  has  given  me  a  beautiful  white 
horse !  and  we  can't  find  out  who  it  is." 

"  Humph  !  what  can  you  do  with  a  horse,  I  should 
•ike  to  know  ?  You  never  were  on  a  horse  in  your  life." 

"  Oh  yes,  sir ! "  replied  Alice,  in  her  enthusiasm  speak- 
ing very  loud,  "  I  have  rode  on  Louis's  pony." 

"  But  Clarence  led  you,"  suggested  the  boy. 

"  Well,  now  I  can  learn  to  ride  myself,  and  you'll  like 
to  ride  a  great  deal,  now  you'll  have  me  for  company ; " 
and  she  joyfully  kissed  his  pale  brow  again  and  again. 

When  they  turned  from  the.  window,  they  saw  Mr. 
Stanley  behind  them  with  an  open  letter  in  his  hand, 
from  which  he  had  taken  a  bank-bill.  He  had  a  most 
mysterious  air,  and  waited,  without  speaking,  until  Ger- 
trude said,  "  Is  it  so,  papa  ?  is  the  horse  sent  to  Alice?" 

"  Yes ;  Alice  has  strong  friends  somewhere,  certainly 
wealthy  ones.  A  man  came  this  morning,  leading  this 


IN    DISGIMSF.  /O 

beautiful  animal,  and  having  asked  for  me,  gave  me  a 
sealed"  envelope,  directed  to  my  care  ;  I  opened  it,  and 
found  another  addressed  to  Miss  Alice  Carey,  Linden- 
wood  Hall.  This  I  called  her  to  open,  when,  just  glamv- 
ing  at  its  contents,  she  thrust  it  into  my  hand  and  sprang 
away,  saying,  "  Oh,  I  must  tell  Louis  !  " 

"  Shall  I  read  your  letter  for  you  ?  "  he  asked,  turning 
:o  the  child. 

"  Yes,  sir,  please  do." 

"  Here  it  is  :  'A  token  of  respect  and  affection  to 
Alice  Carey,  from  an  obliged  friend.  Ask  Mrs.  Stanley 
to  purchase  a  suitable  riding-dress  with  the  enclosed.'" 
Here  Mr.  Stanley  gave  his  wife  the  bill,  which  was  upon 
i  New  York  bank  for  fifty  dollars. 

Uncle  Stephen  had  returned  to  his  chair,  and  was  very 
deliberately  opening  the  last  evening  paper.  Alice  took 
her  letter,  and  advanced  to  show  it  to  him.  "  Look  here, 
Uncle  Stephen  ! "  she  began,  holding  out  the  letter. 

"  I'm  too  busy,  now,  child,"  he  answered,  shaking  his 
head ;  and  though  very  much  disappointed  that  he  did 
not,  appear  to  share  her  joy,  she  turned  away  from  him. 
Her  clear,  dark  eyes  shone  brightly,  the  rosy  tint  had 
deepened  on  her  cheeks,  while  her  small  mouth  was 
wreathed  in  smiles.  Mrs.  Stanley  glanced  at  Clarenc^, 
who  stood  gazing  at  the  little  figure,  and  saw  that  he, 
too,  appreciated  her  loveliness.  Gertrude  saw  the  glance, 
and,  for  the  first  time,  a  feeling  of  dislike  toward  Alice 
sprang  up  in  her  heart.  Knowing  she  could  take  no 
surer  way  of  annoying  the  donor,  whom  she  was  sure 
was  Uncle  Stephen,  she  advanced  toward  him,  and 
taking  the  trumpet  said,  in  a  voice  loud  enough  to  call 

7 


74  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

the  attention  of  all  present :  "  Alice  ought  to  be  very 
thankful  for  your  valuable  gift.  Perhaps,  as  she  grows 
older  she  may  appreciate  the  kindness  which  has  singled 
her  out  as  the  receiver  of  your  bounty." 

Uncle  Stephen  was  very  angry  ;  at  least  his  height- 
ened color,  and  the  impatient  stamp  of  his  foot  made 
him  appear  so.  He  started  to  his  feet,  and  giving  the 
cricket  before  him  a  violent  push,  exclaimed,  "  Who  said 
I  had  bestowed  any  bounty  upon  her,  or  any  one  else  ?  " 

Gertrude  was  about  to  make  an  angry  reply ;  but  she 
saw  Clarence,  whom  she  thought  had  left  the  room, 
standing  by  Alice  in  the  door-way,  and  she  turned 
haughtily  to  the  window. 

"  Could  it  be  Uncle  Stephen,"  thought  Alice,  "  who 
gave  it  to  me?"  She  started  forward,  then  checked 
herself,  and  finally  followed  her  teacher  to  the  door, 
where  Louis  was  impatiently  calling  her  to  come  and 
try  her  new  pony. 

Gertrude  retired  to  her  own  room  ;  but  the  sight  from 
her  windows  did  not  by  any  means  diminish  the  anger 
she  felt  toward  Alice. 

Clarence  mounted  the  horse,  rode  him  gently  around 
the  yard,  trotted  and  cantered  him,  and  finding  him  to 
be  perfectly  gentle,  placed  Alice  upon  his  back.  Louis 
followed,  laughing  gayly  at  her  fear,  for  the  horse,  though 
not  a  large  one,  was  so  much  higher  than  the  Shetland 
pony,  that  she  trembled  excessively.  Clarence,  however, 
encouraged  her,  walked  by  her  side  back  and  forth,  until 
she  became  used  to  the  height.  He  then  asked  if  she 
would  venture  to  have  the  animal  trot,  saying  he  would 
still  hold  the  rein. 


IN    DISGU1SL.  75 

Though  very  pale,  Alice  said,  "  Yes  ; "  and  after  a  few 
moments,  thought  she  could  go  alone.  He  showed  her 
how  to  hold  the  rein,  made  her  sit  erect,  bearing  upon 
the  stirrup,  and  then  let  her  go,  following  closely  behind 
her.  She  rode  down  to  the  gate  and  then  stopped,  but 
her  kind  teacher  soon  came  up  and  taught  her  to  turn 
about,  when  she  trotted  briskly  up  to  the  door.  She  then 
begged  Clarence  to  sit  upon  the  step  while  she  rode 
alone,  and  this  time  she  and  Louis  trotted  side  by  side 
down  the  gravelled  road,  turned,  and  trotted  up  to  the 
door,  when  the  young  gentleman  told  her  she  had  done 
bravely,  and  Mrs.  Stanley  from  the  window  nodded  her 
approval. 

"  I  wish  Uncle  Stephen  could  see  me,"  said  the  happy 
girl,  and  looking  up  to  his  window  she  saw  him,  laugh- 
ing heartily  at  her  success. 

The  more  she  thought  of  it,  the  more  was  Alice  con- 
vinced that  Uncle  Stephen  was  the  donor ;  but  she  waa 
sorely  puzzled  in  what  way  to  express  her  thanks  with- 
out giving  offence.  At  length,  after  revolving  the  subject 
until  a  very  late  hour  at  night,  she  resolved  upon  a  method 
by  which  she. might  do  so.  She  was  in  the  habit  of 
writing  two  compositions  every  week  ;  sometimes  it  was 
an  abstract  of  her  lesson,  sometimes  a  simple  tale,  and 
often  a  Bible  character.  Her  next,  she  resolved,  should 
be  a  letter  addressed  "  To  my  unknown  benefactor." 
This  she  did  in  a  neatly-written  note  of  two  pages,  and, 
having  shown  it  to  Mrs.  Stanley,  and  received  her  kind 
approval,  she  carried  it  to  the  parlor,  and,  watching  her 
opportunity  when  she  found  Uncle  Stephen  ulonr,  she 
told  him  she  had  a  letter  which  she  wished  to  show  him, 


76  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

before  she  gave  it  to  her  teacher  for  a  theme.  The  old 
gentleman  pushed  back  his  glasses,  and  took  the  envel 
ope,  little  thinking  it  was  addressed  to  him-elf.  He 
ojK'iH-d  it.  commenced  reading,  then  gave  a  start  of  sui 
piise;  Lut,  seeing  Alice  standing  anxiously  before  him, 
he  read  it  through  with  no  other  comment  than  by  fre- 
quently wiping  his  eyes.  He  then  carefully  folded  it,  and 
returned  it  to  her,  saying,  ''  Good  child,  good  child"  in 
such  a  tone  of  tenderness,  that  she  knew  her  humble 
thanks  had  been  accepted.  When  she  presented  the  com- 
position to  her  teacher,  he  did  not,  as  was  usually  the 
case,  return  it  to  her  with  corrections  ;  and,  when  she 
asked  for  it,  told  her  he  had  forwarded  it  according  to  the 
address. 

During  the  weeks  following,  the  children,  as  they  were 
called  in  the  family,  improved  the  fine  weather  until 
Alice  became  quite  an  accomplished  equestrian,  Clar- 
ence often  obtaining  another  horse,  and  accompanying 
them  to  the  village.  But  while  this  exercise  was  of  great 
service  to  the  young  girl,  Louis  appeared  more  and  more 
exhausted,  until  at  length  even  his  physician  became  con- 
vinced he  could  not  endure  the  fatigue.  Dr.  Jenks  then 
recommended  a  change  of  air,  and  Mrs.  Stanley  pro- 
posed starting  with  him  and  Alice  on  a  journey  to  N . 

Her  husband  accompanied  her,  and  after  waiting  a  few 
days,  and  finding  the  change  likely  to  prove  beneficial,  he 
returned  home,  leaving  her  to  prolong  her  visit  while  the 
poor  boy  continued  better.  It  was  his  first  journey,  and 
Louis  was  not  soon  weary  of  talking  with  Alice,  about 
places  of  interest  they  had  passed.  He  gained  rapidly 
in  strength,  and  was  able  to  ride  almost  every  day.  His 


IN    DISGIISK.  77 

mother  went  with  him  to  C ,  her  native  place,  visited 

the  house  where  «he  was  born,  pointed  out  to  him  and 
his  companion  me  study  where  her  father  wrote  his  ser- 
mons, received  the  calls  of  his  people,  and  heard  her  re- 
citations. She  showed  them  the  garden,  and  arbor,  with 
its  clustering  vines  trained  by  her  own  hand.  Nor  did 
she  fail  to  visit  with  them  the  graves  of  her  father  and 
mother.  , 

Seated  on  a  low  mound,  Mrs.  Stanley  called  to  mind 
the  early  teachings  of  her  beloved  father,  the  only  parent 
she  had  known,  and  repeated  them  to  her  attentive  listen- 
ers. She  reminded  them  of  the  home,  the  Saviour  has  pro- 
vided for  all  those  who  humbly  believe  on  him,  who  love 
him,  and  try  to  do  his  will.  Pointing  to  the  grave  before 
her,  she  told  them  how  she  had  longed  to  lie  down  there 
by  his  side.  "  But,"  she  added,  "  that  desire  was  a  mur- 
mur against  the  kind  hand  that  had  for  so  many  years 
given  me  a  teacher,  guide,  and  friend.  Long  ago  I 
learned  to  thank  Him  that  my  prayer  was  not  answered. 
I  have  now  many  dear  ones  for  whom  I  desire  to  live  and 
labor ; "  and  she  drew  the  children  nearer  to  her  side.  "  1 
want  you,  my  dear  Alice,"  she  continued,  "  to  remember 
that  God  sends  no  more  trials  than  he  sees  to  be  needful 
for  us,  and  no  more  than  he  will  give  us  strength  to  en- 
dure, if  we  call  upon  him.  Sometimes  he  takes  away 
our  friends,  sometimes  deprives  vis  of  the  affections  we 
most  nighly  prize,  lest  we  should  make  idols  of  them, 
and  forget  him,  the  author  of  all  our  blessings.  Let  us 
trust  him,  feeling  sure  that  he  doeth  all  things  well ;  and 
let  us  prepare  for  that  mansion  above  the  skies,  where 


78  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

there  will  be  no  more  sorrow,  no  more  tears,  but  when 
all  will  be  free  from  sin." 

"  Mother,"  said  Louis,  gazing  for  one  moment  into  hei 
iace,  and  then  letting  his  eye  rest  upon  the  graves  "  I 
shall  go  there  very  soon.  I  often  dream  about  it." 

Mrs.  Stanley  pressed  the  dear  child  to  her  heart,  am! 
felt  that  it  would  indeed  be  a  trial  to  part  witli  him,  while 
Alice  caught  his  hand,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears.  "  Don't, 
Louis,  don't  say  so  !  You  know  I  couldn't  do  without 
you  ;  and  you  are  a  great  deal  better." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Louis,  "  I'm  better ;  but  it  wont  iast 
long.  I  lie  awake  at  night,  and  think  about  it ;  and 
sometimes  I'm  glad,  because  then  I  shall  never  do  wrong 
any  more.  And  now  it's  so  hard  not  to  feel  impatient 
when  my  head  aches  ;  but,"  and  he  drew  a  long  sigh, 
"  sometimes  I  feel  afraid  to  die  and  lie  in  the  cold 
grave." 

"  My  own  dear  Louis ! "  exclaimed  his  mother,  while 
her  tears  fell  thick  and  fast,  "  you  will  not  lie  there.  You 
will  be  with  God,  with  your  Saviour,  with  your  dear 
mother.  It  is  only  this  poor  feeble  body  which  will  be 
put  in  the  grave  to  rest  until  the  morning  of  the  resur- 
rection." 

"  Alice  reads  to  me  about  heaven., '  replied  the  boy> 
raising  his  eyes  to  the  clear  azure  sky  above  them,  "  j 
love  to  hear  about  it." 

"  Oh,  Louis  !  "  exclaimed  the  weeping  girl,  "  I  never 
knew  why  you  wanted  me  to  read  those  chapters  in  the 
Revelation  so  many  times.  Y7ou  didn't  tell  me  you  were 
going  there  so  soon." 

Mrs.  Stanley  was  received  with  great  joy  by  her  old 


IN    DISGUISE.  79 

friends,  and  she  passed  nearly  two  weeks  among  them, 
going  from  house  to  house  with  her  children.  On  the 

evening  before  she  returned  to  N ,  she  once  more  bent 

her  steps  to  the  quiet  cemetery,  and  there  alone,  on  her 
knees,  at  the  side  of  her  dear  father's  grave,  she  implored 
wisdom  to  guide  her  in  all  her  efforts  to  do  good.  She 
prayed  that  her  faith  and  patience  might  never  fail,  but 
that  all  her  afflictions  might  be  so  improved,  as  to  become 
blessings  to  her  soul.  She  besought  her  heavenly  Father 
to  grant  unto  her  the  unspeakable  satisfaction  of  seeing 
her  dear  husband  a  child  of  God,  and  all  the  children 
following  the  example  of  their  brother,  and  looking  for- 
ward to  an  inheritance  in  the  skies. 

Louis  seemed  so  much  benefited  by  the  journey,  and 
his  constant  exercise  in  the  open  air,  that  Mrs.  Stanley 
postponed,  from  time  to  time,  her  intended  departure.  It 
was  the  last  week  in  August  when  she  wrote  her  hus- 
band that  she  should  return  in  a  few  days.  She  had  not 
yet  sent  the  letter  to  the  office,  when  she  was  summoned 
to  the  parlor  by  her  kind  friend,  Mrs.  Churchill,  and  there 
found  Louis  tightly  clasped  in  the  arms  of  Mr.  Sydney. 
He  had  been  absent  from  Lindenwood  for  six  weeks, 
1  ravelling  with  Uncle  Stephen. 

"  And  where  is  the  good  man,  now  ?  "  asked  Marion, 
eagerly. 

"  He  is  at  the  public  house,  but  a  few  rods  distant." 
"  That  is,  indeed,  good  news !     Will  he  return  directly 
home,  from  here  ?  " 

"  He  says  he  cannot  decide  until  he  has  seen  you." 
Mrs.  Stanley  started.     "  1  will  go  to  him  at  once.     I 
have  a  letter  written  to  my  husband,  informing  him  of 


80  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

my  intention  to  leave  here  in  a  few  days.     Perhaps  it  will 
not  be  necessary  to  send  it." 

"  Is  Alice  well  ?  "  asked  Clarence,  when  she  had  re- 
turned to  the  room,  equipped  for  the  walk. 

"  Perfectly  so,  here  she  comes,  up  the  yard." 
The  young  man  started  toward  the  window.  Alice 
had  thrown  off  her  sun-bonnet  as  she  came  through  the 
gate,  and  was  singing  gayly,  when  her  attention  was  at- 
tracted by  a  sound  in  the  street.  Wiih  her  neck  and 
an ns  bare,  her  small  head  bent  slightly  forward  as  she 
listened,  her  lips  parted,  disclosing  two  beautiful  rows  of 
pe.irly  teeth,  Alice  stood  for  one  moment  unconscious  of 
the  eyes  gazing  upon  her  with  pride  and  affection.  But 
turning  to  enter  the  house  she  saw  Clarence,  stopped  sud- 
denly for  one  earnest  glance,  to  assure  herself  it  were 
really  he,  then,  with  a  light  bound,  sprang  forward  into 
the  room,  her  eyes  sparkling,  and  her  whole  countenance 
lighted  with  joy. 

"  Clarence !  Oh,  Clarence !  "  she  exclaimed  with  de- 
light, as  he  grasped  both  her  hands  and  imprinted  a  kiss 
upon  her  willing  lips,  "  I'm  so  happy  to  see  you." 

The  young  man  said  nothing  in  words,  but  the  com- 
placency with  which  he  regarded  his  enthusiastic  pnpi 
told  his  pleasure  at  the  meeting. 

"  Uncle  Stephen  is  at  the  Hotel,"  remarked  Mrs.  Stan- 
ley to  the  child.  "  You  and  "Louis  may  go  with  me  to 
see  him.  As  I  should  like  to  have  some  private  conver- 
sation with  him,"  she  continued,  turning  to  Mr.  Sydney, 
"  I  will  entrust  you  to  the  care  of  the  young  people  for 
half  an  hour." 

"  1  am  well  convinced  there  is  some  plo*  going  on," 


IN    DISGUISE.  81 

said  Clarence,  archly.     "  Uncle   Stephen  is  very  myste- 
rious about  business  he  must  arrange  with  you." 

Mrs.  Stanley  glanced  toward  the  children,  and  he  said 
no  more. 

The  old  gentleman  was  extremely  pleased  to  meet  his 
friends ;  though  he  expressed  great  displeasure  at  his 
ward  for  being  gone  so  long,  saying,  "  I  suppose  you 
thought  I  had  no  feeling.  Now  this  little  girl,  I  dare 
say,  is  just  as  glad  to  see  me,  as  she  is  to  see  you  — 
hey,  Alice  ?  " 

Thus  suddenly  addressed,  the  child  replied,  archly  : 
"  Dear  Uncle  Stephen,  you  know  I  love  Clarence  because 
he's  your  ward,  and  because  you  love  him." 

The  whole  company  burst  into  a  merry  laugh  at  her 
answer. 

"  Complimentary  to  you,  Clarence,"  resumed  Uncle 
Stephen ;  "  so  you  don't  like  him  at  all  on  his  own  ac- 
count?" 

"  I  know,  sir,''  she  answered,  with  a  heightened  color, 
as  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  young  man's  earnest  face, 
"  that  you  would  not  love  him  as  you  do,  unless  he  were 
very  good." 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  to  the  child  ?  "  he  asked 
of  Marion,  "  giving  her  lessons  in  flattery  ?  This  air 
don't  agree  with  her;  must  get  her  home."  But  while  he 
said  this,  he  held  fast  her  little  hands,  and  gazed  lovingly 
into  her  face. 

When  Clarence  had  taken  the  children  for  a  walk, 
Marion  drew  a  chair  near  him,  and  imparted  her  success. 
She  had  finished  her  tale,  and  prepared  it  for  the  press. 

"  That  being  the  case,"  he  replied,  "  I  shall  proceed  at 


S2  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

once  to  New  York,  and  make  arrangements  for  its  pub 
Jcation.  Will  you  leave  the  business  with  me  ?" 

"Certainly,  certainly,  —  I  am  entirely  ignorant  ho\v 
such  things  are  managed." 

"  I  have  an  acquaintance  with  a  publisher,  who  wiii.  ! 
think,  be  glad  to  take  it  upon  my  recommendation.'"  Kc 
didn't  consider  it  necessary  to  say  to  her.  that  he  would 
furnish  the  requisite  funds. 

Mrs.  Stanley  then  presented  her  kind  friend  with  a 
small  case,  containing  the  miniatures  of  herself  and  the 
children  ;  and  he  had  not  done  admiring  it  when  they 
returned. 

Mrs.  Churchill  cordially  invited  Mr.  Forsyth,  and  his 
ward,  to  spend  the  night  at  her  house  ;  but  the  old  gen- 
tleman preferred  remaining  at  the  hotel,  as  they  were  to 
start  for  New  York  early  the  next  morning. 

Mrs.  Stanley  parted  from  her  friends  with  regret,  after 
receiving  from  them  a  promise  of  a  speedy  return  of  her 
long  visit ;  and  arrived  at  home  greatly  improved  in 
strength  and  spirits.  The  children  were  delighted  to  be 
again  at  home,  and  resume  their  wonted  occupations. 
They  visited  the  stables  to  see  Felix  and  Dobbin,  the 
names  they  had  given  to  their  favorite  animals,  and  found 
them  in  good  condition,  having  by  order  of  Mr.  Stanley 
been  exercised  every  day. 

When  Uncle  Stephen  returned,  he  informed  Marion 
that  he  had  been  able  to  make  satisfactory  arrangements 
in  regard  to  the  publication  of  her  tale,  which  would 
soon  be  issued  from  the  press. 

As  the  time  approached  for  the  work  to  appear,  the 
author  began  to  tremble  for  its  success ;  and,  though 


IN    DISGUISE.  8-J 

it  was  entirely  anonymous,  she  almost  wished  she  had 
never  undertaken  it.  These  fears,  however,  she  was 
obliged  to  keep  to  herself,  for  Uncle  Stephen  was  indig- 
nant at  the  first  doubt  she  expressed,  and  took  it  as  a 
reflection  upon  his  power  of  judging,  when  she  said, 
timidly,  "  The  public  will  not  receive  my  little  work  as 
kindiy  as  you  have  done." 

The  next  few  weeks  passed  rapidly  away.  Mr.  Stan- 
ley was  in  unusual  spirits  at  the  return  of  his  wife,  and 
the  apparent  improvement  in  Louis.  Gertrude  was  oc- 
cupied with  Clarence,  who  gave  himself  up  to  the 
pleasure  he  experienced  in  her  society,  though  as  yet  he 
had  kept  his  promise  to  his  guardian,  and  had  not  dis- 
closed to  her  his  love.  He  had,  indeed,  experienced  a 
sudden  pang,  when  lie  observed  any  appearance  of 
asperity  in  her  temper  ;  but  love  is  proverbially  blind,  so 
that  many  events  prejudicial  to  her  passed  before  his 
eyes  without  his  notice,  or  if  he  observed  them,  he  was 
ever  ready  to  invent  excuses  for  what  appeared  unlovely 
in  her  conduct. 

Gertrude  loved  Clarence  as  much  as  with  her  cold, 
proud  temperament  she  was  capable  of  loving.  But  she 
was  vexed  at  his  delay  to  ask  her  hand,  and  ascribed  it 
to  the  influence  of  her  step-mother.  She  was  also  dis- 
trustful of  Alice,  and  determined  that  the  child  should 
be  made  to  feel  that  she  was  too  familiar,  and  that  she 
must  learn  to  keep  her  appropriate  place.  She  begged 
her  father  to  send  the  child  to  school,  as  Louis  was  -o 
much  Ix-ttcr;  but  when  hi-  mentioned  the  proposition  in 
the  presence  of  Clarence,  the  young  man  would  by  no 
means  consent  to  give  up  his  pupil;  and  said,  with 


84  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

warmth  :  "  It  will  be  quite  time  for  her  to  attend  school 
and  learn  accomplishments,  when  I  leave  here  ;  that  is, 
if  you  are  satisfied  with  her  progress." 

So  Alice  went  on,  quietly  laying  the  foundation  for  a 
thorough  education ;  though  her  instructor  sighed,  as  he 
thought  of  what  might  be  her  future  destiny.  And 
Louis,  who  was  always  present,  at  her  recitations,  and 
who  of  late  had  listened  very  attentively,  became  fond 
of  study,  and  progressed  rapidly. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

"  To  meditate,  to  plan,  resolve,  perform, 
Which  in  itself  is  good,  as  surely  brings 
Reward  of  good,  no  matter  what  be  done." 

Pollock. 

ABOLT  the  middle  of  October,  the  family  at  Linden« 
wood  Hall  were  seated  at  their  evening  repast.  Uncle 
Stephen,  having  finished  his  meal,  requested  Alice  to 
pass  him  the  New  York  Journal  of  Commerce.  He  was 
an  inveterate  reader  of  newspapers ;  and,  after  reading 
to  himself  several  columns  of  shipping,  and  matters 
connected  with  trade,  he  came  upon  the  following  notice, 
which  he  read  aloud  :  "  Works  in  Press.  —  A  Simple 
Tale  of  Home  Life,  published  by  S.  D.  &  Co.  This 
work,  from  an  anonymous  author,  is  now  before  the 
public.  With  an  unostentatious  title,  it  makes  its  way 
to  the  heart,  stirring  our  very  souls  to  purer,  higher,  and 
nobler  purposes.  It  is  full  of  pathos  and  simple  beauty , 
and  the  style  is  chaste  and  clear.  We  prophesy  for  it  a 
wide  circulation." 

"  Then  follows  a  score  or  more  of  similar  notices  of 
the  same  book,"  continued  Uncle  Stephen,  as  if  he  were 
about  to  pass  on  to  something  else. 

"  What,  is  the  title?  "  inquired  Gertrude,  eagerly. 

Clarence  looked  over  Uticle  Stephen's  shoulder,  and 
repeated  it. 

"  Will  you  send  for  it,  father?    I  should  like  to  read  it' 
8  w 


56  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"  Yes,  my  daughter,  though  probably  we  should  be 
able  to  obtain  it  from  the  bookstore  in  the  village." 

During  the  reading  of  the  notice,  Mrs.  Stanley  grew 
very  pale,  but  the  family  were  so  intently  listening  that 
they  did  not  notice  her  agitation. 

The  next  morning,  Gertrude  borrowed  Felix  from 
Alice,  and,  accepting  Clarence  as  an  escort,  was  just 
starting  for  the  village,  when  a  bundle  was  brought  to 
Uncle  Stephen.  He  untied  the  wrapper,  disclosing  a 
pile  of  books  elegantly  bound. 

"Pshaw!"  said  he,  impatiently,  as  he  saw  several 
pairs  of  eyes  earnestly  watching  him.  He  took  up  a 
letter  lying  at  the  top  of  the  bundle,  and,  having  hastily 
read  it,  muttered,  "  A  pretty  piece  of  imposition,  truly ! 
Send  me  a  dozen  books  to  give  away  for  Christmas 
presents  !  Wonder  what  will  be  done  next  ?  Turn  au- 
thor myself,  most  likely."  Then,  taking  one  volume  from 
the  pile,  "  there,  Gertrude,"  he  said,  "  no  need  of  going 
to  the  bookstore,  unless  you  want  to  take  these  and  sell 
them  there.  Here  are  a  dozen  copies  of  the  very  book 
you  were  in  search  of." 

Gertrude  advanced  eagerly,  and  took  it  from  his  hand 

"  Well,"  he  resumed,  "  suppose  can't  send  'em  back, 
so  you  may  keep  that  one,  if  you'll  promise  to  read  it, 
and  profit  by  it." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  replied,  gayly,  "  I'll  certainly  prom- 
ise to  do  the  first." 

He  then  placed  a  volume  in  the  trembling  hands  of 
Mrs.  Stanley,  and  also  of  Alice,  and  of  Louis,  who  were 
present. 

With  a  flushed  face,  the  authoress  retired  from  the 


IN    DISGUISE.  H7 

room,  while   Clarence   proposed   to  "Gertrude  a  ride    in 
another  direction. 

In  the  evening,  when  the  family  drew  around  the  fire, 
Mr.  Stanley  proposed  reading  aloud,  while  the  ladies 
employed  themselves  with  their  needles.  This  proposi- 
tion was  joyfully  received  ;  and  Uncle  Stephen,  finding 
he  could  hear  distinctly  when  his  nephew  held  the  tube 
a  short  distance  from  his  mouth,  raised  the  horn  to  his 
ear,  and  sat  back  in  his  chair  with  an  appearance  of 
perfect  content.  Alice  nestled  herself  close  to  Mrs. 
Stanley,  who  had  turned  a  little  from  the  light,  while 
Louis,  who  begged  to  be  allowed  to  sit  up  an  hour,  and 
hear  the  new  book,  laid  his  head  in  his  mother's  lap. 
Before  her  father  had  read  many  pages,  Gertrude  dropped 
her  work,  and,  leaning  her  head  upon  her  hand,  gave 
herself  up  to  the  enjoyment  of  listening.  As  the  work 
progressed,  no  one  was  more  interested  than  Uncle  Ste- 
phen, who  clapped  his  hands,  then,  as  if  fearful  of  losing 
a  word,  he  caught  up  his  tube,  and  as  suddenly  shed 
tears.  And,  indeed,  Mr.  Stanley,  who  was  a  fine  reader, 
was  often  obliged  to  stop  and  clear  his  throat.  At 
length  they  came  to  the  death  of  the  heroine,  whose 
touching  story  had  come  home  to  every  heart,  who  was 
represented  as  a  young  bride  yearning  for  the  affection 
of  her  husband.  He  had  mistaken  her  character,  and 
found,  when  too  late  to  atone  for  his  neglect,  her  diary, 
where  she  had  poured  out  freely  all  her  sorrows.  Here 
Mr.  Stanley  was  unable  to  proceed,  and  passed  the  book 
to  Clarence,  while  Uncle  Stephen  \vepr  aloud,  wholly 
unmindful  that  the.  trumpet  had  for  some  time  been 
lying  unused  upon  the  table.  Mrs.  Stanley  also  wept, 


88  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

but  hers  were  tears  of  joy  and  gratitude.  Her  agitation 
attracted  the  attention  of  her  husband,  who,  ascribing  ii 
to  a  wrong  cause,  made  many  noble  resolutions  sug- 
gested by  the  subject  of  the  tale. 

At  a  late  hour  the  book  was  reluctantly  laid  aside,  to 
be  finished  the  following  evening,  when  Uncle  Stephen 
said,  "  I  forgive  the  old  fellow  for  sending  me  the  books. 
If  it  ends  well,  I'll  order  a  dozen  or  two  more." 

It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  Gertrude  restrained 
herself  from  reading  in  advance  ;  but  Clarence  put  his 
hands  over  her  book,  telling  her  it  was  not  fair.  Through 
that  day,  nothing  else  was  talked  of. 

"  Marion  !  "  exclaimed  her  husband,  "  I  have  not  yet 
heard  your  opinion.  Are  you  not  interested  ?  " 

"  The  characters  are  dear  to  me  as  personal  friends," 
she  replied,  while  her  lips  quivered  from  suppressed  emo- 
tion. 

There  was  something  inexplicable  in  her  manner,  and, 
addressing  her  with  unwonted  tenderness,  he  said,  "  My 
dear  wife,  you  take  it  too  much  to  heart." 

Early  in  the  evening  the  family  assembled,  eager  for 
the  reading  to  begin.  Clarence  suggested  that  Uncle 
Stephen  should  take  a  copy  of  the  work,  and  read  to 
himself,  which  he  willingly  agreed  to  do,  and  Mr.  Stan- 
ley commenced. 

As  the  story  progressed,  the  hero,  rendered  desolate  bj 
the  death  of  his  wife,  gave  himself  up  to  bitter  remorse, 
and  then,  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  earnest 
prayers  in  his  behalf,  which  he  found  interspersed  through 
the  pages  of  her  private  journal,  became  a  humble,  con- 
sistent Christian.  There  were  no  unheard  of  escapes 


IN    DISGUISE.  89 

nothing,  indeed,  different  from  the  every-day  expeiien« 
of  many  families ;  but  through  the  boqk  there  was  a 
high  moral  standard,  an  earnest  appeal  to  one's  better 
feelings,  together  with  a  thrilling  beauty  of  language, 
which,  coming  as  it  evidently  did  from  a  heart  acquainted 
with  sorrow,  could  not  fail  to  reach  the  heart  of  its  read- 
ers. 

Mr.  Stanley  choked  and  coughed,  as  he  tried  vainly  to 
suppress  his  agitation.  At  length,  as  on  the  previous 
evening,  he  passed  the  book  to  Clarence,  who  only  shook 
his  head.  Then,  turning  to  Marion,  he  asked,  "  Will  you 
read  ? " 

She  took  the  volume,  and  though  at  first  her  voice 
trembled,  her  emotion  was  ascribed  to  her  interest  in  the 
tale,  and  she  soon  became  wholly  absorbed  in  the  read- 
ing. Alice,  who  was  seated  on  a  low  chair  at  her  side, 
leaned  forward  with  parted  lips,  while  the  tears  were 
streaming  unconsciously  down  her  cheeks.  To  her  it 
was  all  a  reality. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  Mrs.  Stanley  concluded ; 
but  no  one  had  thought  of  the  hour.  All  sat  as  if  spell- 
bound, until  she  closed  the  book,  when  her  hearers  drew 
a  long  sigh  of  relief  from  their  over-excited  feelings. 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  she,  looking  at  the  time-piece. 
"  Indeed,  1  was  not  aware  it  was  so  late." 

"  We  could  not  rest,"  responded  Clarence,  "  until  it 
was  finished." 

"  We  must  find  out  the  author! "  exclaimed  Gertrude, 
with  enthusiasm.  "  I  know  I  should  love  her." 

"  I  think,"  remarked  her  father,  with  great  tenderness, 
u  you  would  find  she  had  learned   from   her  own  grief, 
8* 


DO  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

how  to  move  the  hearts  of  others.  The  book  is  above 
praise.  I  am  willing  to  confess  that  I  owe  to  it  many 
now  resolutions  ;  many  desires  after  the  peace  experi- 
enced by  that  desolate  husband,  as  described  in  the  clos- 
ing chapter. 

Mrs.  Stanley  left  the  room  hurriedly,  to  conceal  the  tears 
of  gratitude  which  were  welling  up  from  the  deepest 
fountains  of  her  heart. 

For  a  number  of  days  the  characters  described  in  the 
new  book  were  the  all-engrossing  themes  of  conversa- 
tion. Favorite  chapters  were  read  again  and  again,  and 
each  time  some  new  beauty  was  discovered.  Gertrude 
was  exceedingly  anxious  to  ascertain  the  name  of  the 
author,  who,  she  said,  "  must  be  a  lady  of  the  keenest 
susceptibilities,  as  well  as  the  most  refined  taste,  for  there 
is  not  a  low  expression  in  the  whole  book." 

Nor  was  Gertrude  the  only  one  who  was  curious  to 
know  the  writer  of  this  popular  tale,  the  most  flattering 
notices  of  which  were  daily  coming  from  the  press.  Mrs. 
Stanley  saw  one  day  an  extract  from  a  New  York  paper, 
which  pained  her  exceedingly.  It  was  as  follows  :  "  The 
question  has  repeatedly  been  asked,  who  is  the  author  of 
'  A  Simple  Tale  of  Home  Life.'  She  is,  as  we  under- 
stand upon  good  authority,  a  lady  residing  not  a  hundred 
miles  from  this  city,  who  lives  a  very  sad  life  with  a 
cruel,  tyrannical  husband.  The  story  is  said  to  be  a  his- 
tory of  her  own  trials,  embellished  with  some  fiction." 

Marion  took  the  paper  to  her  own  room,  and  tore  it  to 
pieces,  wondering  who  could  have  thought  of  such  an 
explanation.  But  the  next  day  the  mistake  was  rectified, 
and  the  author  wxas  said  to  be  a  young  lady  residing  at 


IN    DISGUISE.  91 

the  south,  —  name  unknown.  After  reading  the  latter, 
the  author  breathed  more  freely. 

Uncle  Stephen  conducted  himself  in  a  most  mysteri- 
ous manner.  He  had  ordered  bundle  after  bundle  of 
(hem  from  the  publisher,  and  sent  them  to  his  friends  in 
every  direction.  Louis  watched  him  one  day,  as  he  sat 
reading  selections  from  the  "  Simple  tale,"  while  he 
chuckled  to  himself,  as  if  very  merry  at  his  own  thoughts. 
"  Alice,"  he  whispered,  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  Uncle 
Stephen  wrote  that  book." 

"  No,  he  didn't,"  she  replied,  decidedly. 

"  Well,  he  can  say  it  all  by  heart.  He  has  read  noth- 
ing else  since  it  came  out,  except  the  notices  in  the 
papers." 

And  indeed  Uncle  Stephen  might  well  be  interested 
in  Marion's  complete  success.  "  I  prophesied  it  from  the 
first,"  he  repeated  to  her  again  and  again.  He  had  been 
the  only  one  in  her  confidence  ;  had  heard  it  as  soon  as 
written  ;  nay,  had  talked  over  and  over  the  plan  with 
her,  and  she  had  realized  much  assistance  from  his  hints. 
Now,  he  thought,  was  the  time  for  her  to  make  herself 
known.  But  she  said,  "  Not  quite  yet."  She  shrank 
from  the  denouement,  even  in  her  own  family. 

In  less  than  two  months  the  publisher  wrote  to  Uncle 
Stephen  that  the  first  edition  was  exhausted,  and  that  he 
had  many  orders  for  the  book  yet  unanswered.  He  waa 
ready  to  make  his  first  payment  of  one  thousand  dollars, 
and  he  should  immediately  put  to  press  a  second  edition 
of  ten  thousand  copies. 

When   asked  what  she  would   have  done  with   the 


)2  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL, 

money,  Mrs.  Stanley  answered,  "  Please  direct  them  to 
deposit  it  in  a  New  York  bank,  subject  to  your  order." 

«  But,  what  shall  I  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  I  wish  to  use  it  here,"  she  answered,  laughing. 

"  I  wont  promise  to  keep  your  secret  much  longer," 
he  said  to  her  one  day,  when  they  were  alone.  "  1 
wouldn't,  on  any  account,  fail  of  being  present  when  the 
family  discover  the  author." 

"  I  shall  tell  my  husband,"  said  Mrs.  Stanley ;  "  but 
you  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  revealing  the  secret  to  the 
others,  though  I  am  far  from  wishing  it  known,  except  to 
the  immediate  members  of  our  own  family." 

It  was  a  joyful,  merry  Christmas,  that  year  at  Linden- 
wood.  The  trees,  bushes,  and  ground,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  see,  were  covered  with  pure,  white  snow.  Emma 
and  her  sister  had  returned  for  the  holidays,  and  with 
them  also,  by  especial  invitation,  Alfred  Huntington.  So 
that,  with  the  family  already  at  home,  they  made  quite  a 
large  and  pleasant  circle. 

Louis,  whose  health  had  not  been  so  firm  for  years, 
ran  from  room  to  room,  washing  his  friends  a  "  merry 
Christmas."  The  choice  of  suitable  gifts  had  been  a 
grave  question  of  discussion  between  him  and  Alice, 
especially  as  on  the  previous  week,  each  received,  from 
an  unknown  friend,  five  dollars  to  be  appropriated  in  that 
way.  But  at  length  they  took  Mrs.  Stanley  into  their 
confidence,  and  she  at  once  relieved  them.  Alice  had, 
during  the  summer  and  fall,  employed  her  leisure  in 
working  a  pair  of  slippers  for  Uncle  Stephen,  as  a  small 
token  of  her  gratitude  for  his  kindness.  She  also  wished 
to  make  something  for  her  teacher ;  but  had  been  unable 


IN    UlSGUISE  93 

to  decide  upon  any  article,  until  her  kind  friend  suggested 
a  purse. 

After  breakfast  there  was  a  general  distribution  of 
gifts,  followed  by  joyful  exclamations  of  delight ;  none, 
however,  were  received  with  more  pleasure  than  that  of 
Alice  to  Uncle  Stephen,  who  immediately  threw  off  his 
richly-braided  India  slippers,  substituting  hers  in  their 
place.  Mr.  Stanley  threw  over  the  neck  of  his  wife  a 
heavy  gold  chain,  from  which  was  suspended  a  valua- 
ble watch.  In  return,  she  gave  him  a  quaint  old- 
fashioned  ring,  of  great  worth,  begging  him  to  wear  it 
for  her  sake.  Clarence  and  Gertrude  exchanged  books, 
while  Ally  and  Louis  were  perfectly  delighted  by  a 
present,  from  his  father,  of  a  bright-yellow  Canary  bird, 
in  a  handsome  cage. 

When  the  confusion  arising  from  the  pleasant  scene 
nad  somewhat  subsided,  Marion  took  her  husband  by  the 
hand,  and  led  him  to  the  small  room  she  had  used  for  a 
study.  Inviting  him  to  be  seated,  she  presented  him 
with  an  envelope  containing  bills  to  the  amount  of  one 
thousand  dollars.  He  took  them  out  —  one,  two,  three, 
four,  and  so  on,  until  he  had  counted  ten  one-hundred 
dollar-bills.  He  looked  at  his  wife  in  surprise,  but  she 
only  blushed  and  laughed. 

"-  What  do  you  intend  to  do  with  all  this  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  is  your  Christmas  present." 

"  From  whom  ?  " 

"  From  your  wife,  if  you  will  accept  it." 

"  But  where  did  you  get  it?"  and  for  one  instant  a 
pang  shot  through  his  heart,  as  he  thought  of  the  origi- 
nal of  Ui"  miniature  she  prized  so  highly.  But  she  sal 


THE     HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

fh< 're,  loo  .ting  in  his   face  with  her  calm,  truthful  eyes 
-  -  and  he  spurned  the  idea  as  unworthy  of  her. 

"  Will  you  forgive  me,  if  I  tell  you  all  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  my  dear,"  he  replied,  unconsciously  laying 
'lie  notes  upon  the  .table,  and  growing  pale  about  the 
mouth.  He  evidently  shrank  from  the  disclosure. 

"  You  are  ill,"  said  Marion,  kindly,  though  with  a 
b-iiade  of  sadness  passing  across  her  features,  as  she 
saw  the  contraction  of  her  husband's  brow,  and  little 
dreamed  the  cause.  "  Some  other  time  will  do  as  well." 

"  No  !  no !  "  he  replied,  "  I  am  quite  well.  It  has  been 
already  too  long  delayed." 

"  You  know  it  then,  and  are  displeased,"  —  and  Ma- 
rion brushed  away  a  tear,  that  her  surprise  should  have 
resulted  so  differently  from  what  she  had  anticipated. 

"  Go  on,  Marion,  I  know  nothing.  At  least,  nothing 
definitely,  I  only  had  my  suspicions." 

"  Oh  ! "  said  the  young  wife,  laying  her  head  on  his 
shoulder,  and  weeping  bitterly,  "  I  had  hoped  so  much 
from  this,  I  did  not  imagine  that'  you  would  be  dis- 
pleased, or  I  would  never  have  undertake^!  it." 

"  Undertaken  what,  my  dear  wife  ?  1  do  not  under- 
stand you,"  —  and  he  put  his  arm  about  her. 

"  To  write  the  book,"  she  answered,  sobbing. 

"  What  book,  Marion  ?  "  he  asked,  starting  to  his  feet. 

"  Why,  the  one  Uncle  Stephen  gave  you." 

For  a  full  minute  Mr.  Stanley  stood  gazing  at  his 
wife,  as  if  he  could  hardly  believe  his  senses.  Then  he 
caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  held  her  tightly  to  his  breast 
"  My  own  Marion  ! "  he  whispered,  "  can  you  forgive  me, 
who  have  so  misjudged  you  ?  " 


IN    DISGUISE.  9-3 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  the  loving  wife,  if  you  will   only 
love  me,  I  shall  be  so  happy." 

At  that  moment,  a  servant  knocked  at  the  door,  and 
requested  her  mistress  to  go  below.  There  was  to  be  a 
great  dinner  at  the  Hall,  to  which  Mr.  Badger,  their  good 
rector,  and  his  family,  together  with  other  friends  from 
the  village,  had  been  invited.  Mrs.  Carey  had  the  super- 
vision of  the  whole,  and  had  sent  for  Mrs.  Stanley  to 
advise.  Alice  could  set  the  tables,  and  adorn  them  with 
flowers,  but  she  wished  for  her  mistress's  approbation  of 
the  general  arrangements.  Mrs.  Stanley  accompanied 
the  servant  to  the  pantry,  though  keenly  disappointed  at 
the  interruption. 

In  the  meantime,  Mr.  Stanley  replaced  the  bills  in  the 
envelope,  returned  them  to  Marion's  desk,  and  com- 
menced a  vigorous  walk  across  the  room,  as  he  impa- 
tiently awaited  her  return.  He  was  filled  with  remorse 
that  he  had  given  her  pain,  and  caused  her  to  utter  an 
exclamation  expressing  a  fear  that  she  did  not  possess 
his  love.  "  If  she  had  remained,"  he  soliloquized,  "  I 
would  have  asked  her  to  have  explained  all  —  could  it 
not  have  been  her  father's  picture  ?  "  he  exclaimed,  stop- 
ping short  in  his  walk.  "  But  then,  why  should  she 
conceal  it  ?  Yet,  I  am  sure  she  is  innocent  of  wrong." 
Then  his  niind  reverted  to  her  late  disclosure,  and  he 
thought,  of  her  with  pride,  as  the  author  of  a  book  which 
had  found  such  great  favor  with  the  public.  "  How 
coulc  she  have  accomplished  it  without  his  knowledge?" 
Then  he  became  convinced  that  Uncle  Stephen  had  been 
in  her  confidence.  l>nt  what  would  his  daughters  say  .' 
Would  she  be  willing  they  should  know  it?  Or  was 


96  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

she  determined  to  remain  the  unknown  author  ?  "  Pride 
at  the  thought  of  the  rare  talents  of  his  wife,  and  regret 
that  he  had  not  better  appreciated  her,  by  turns  swelled 
his  breast,  until  at  length  he  became  tired  of  waiting, 
and  determined  to  seek  her  below.  But  neither  in  the 
parlor  nor  dining-room  could  he  find  her,  and  he  reluc- 
tantly joined  the  family. 

Mrs,  Stanley  was  by  this  time  deep  in  the  mysteries 
of  the  kitchen.  Different  kinds  of  soup,  game,  and  other 
meats,  by  turns,  engaged  her  attention.  There  was,  in- 
deed, much  to  be  done,  and  she  saw  no  way  but  for 
her  to  spend  the  forenoon  in  its  accomplishment.  She 
ran  for  one  moment  to  her  room  to  put  on  a  large  apron, 
hoping  to  find  her  husband  still  there ;  but  he  had  just 
gone  below,  and  she  returned  to  her  work. 

Alice  flew  about  here  and  there,  beating  eggs,  grating 
lemon  and  nutmeg,  while  Louis  was  busily  engaged  in 
picking  raisins  and  sultannas.  When  the  puddings 
were  prepared  for  the  oven,  Alice  ran  gayly  to  the 
dining-room,  and  Mrs.  Stanley  having  unlocked  the 
side-board,  proceeded  to  take  from  thence  plate  and 
gjuss.  Ever  and  anon  shouts  of  laughter  came  from 
the  parlor,  in  which  the  young  girl  most  heartily  joined, 
though  without  knowing  the  cause.  She  had  carried  all 
the  dishes  to  the  table,  and  was  singing  gayly,  as  she 
placed  them  in  order,  when  Clarence,  attracted  by  her 
full,  melodious  voice,  came  to  find  her. 

"  I  have  been  wondering  for  the  last  five  minutes,"  he 
said,  as  he  stood  in  the  door-way,  "  who  could  have  im- 
ported that  nightingale.  Really,  Alice,  you  are  a  famous 


IN    DISGUISE.  97 

singer.     What  are  your  other  accomplishments,  which 
you  have  kept  concealed  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  she  replied,  archly,  "  setting  tables,  and  mak- 
ing bouquets." 

"  Where  is  Mrs.  Stanley  ?  " 

"  She  has  returned  to  the  kitchen.  She  has  been 
taking  out  the  plate." 

"  Cannot  her  daughters  assist  her  ?  " 

Alice  laughed  merrily.  "  They  don't  know  anything 
about  cooking." 

"  Well,"  said  he, "  If  you  will  accept  my  assistance,  I 
will  help  you  make  the  bouquets." 

The  young  girl  looked  inquiringly  at  him  for  a  mo- 
ment, but  finding  he  was  in  earnest,  said  she  should  be 
nappy  to  accept  his  proffered  help,  but  disliked  to  keep 
him  from  the  company. 

Having  laid  the  plates,  knives  and  forks  in  order, 
and  put  a  snow-white  napkin,  in  the  form  of  a  fan,  into 
the  goblets,  Alice  hastened  to  the  cellar,  and  brought 
from  thence  a  large  basket  of  flowers,  which  had  been 
placed  there  to  keep  them  fresh.  These  she  carried  into 
a  small  ante-room,  leading  from  the  dining-hall,  and  hav- 
ing put  up  the  leaf  of  a  large  table,  poured  the  flowers 
carefully  upon  it.  She  then  went  for  vases  and  cham- 
pagne-glasses, and  having  made  all  her  arrangements, 
invited  Clarence  to  take  a  seat. 
"  What  shall  I  do  ?  "  he  asked. 

u  You  may  pick  out  all  the  small  flowers  with  long 
stems.  Those  I  shall  put  in  the  glasses  ;  the  short  onea 
you  may  place  here  to  be  tied  into  bouquets." 

For  nearly  an   hour  Clarence  worked   busily  as   she 
9 


98  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

had  directed,  stopping  occasionally  to  watch  the  tastt 
with  which  his  young  companion  assorted  colors,  and 
the  despatch  with  which  she  formed  the  flowers  into 
cones,  tying  the  stems  of  the  roses  and  camellias  upon 
short  pieces  of  wire.  She  was  using  up  her  last  flowers, 
when  they  heard  a  sound  of  suppressed  mirth,  and, 
turning  quickly,  saw  Emma  and  Edith  standing  at  the 
door. 

The  girls  laughed  merrily  as  they  entered,  and  Emma 
said,  good-humoredly,  "  I  would  gladly  have  assisted 
you,  Alice,  though  I  doubt  whether  I  could  have  been 
so  successful." 

"  There  has  been  great  inquiry  about  you  in  the  par- 
lor," said  Edith.  "  One  young  lady  has  been  exceed- 
ingly anxious  concerning  your  welfare." 

Young  Sydney  started  up  in  haste,  and.  taking  two 
of  the  vases  from  the  table,  followed  Alice  to  the  dining- 
room,  and  then  returned  to  the  parlor.  Soon  after,  Mrs. 
Stanley,  having  finished  her  preparations,  and  dressed 
for  dinner,  entered  in  season  to  receive  her  guests. 

Gertrude  cast  a  reproachful  glance  upon  her  lover,  and 
a  haughty  one  upon  her  mother,  supposing  her  to  be  the 
cause  of  his  absence.  Bat  he  made  no  explanation ; 
and,  as  Mr.  Badger,  the  aged  clergyman,  and  his  family, 
were  soon  announced,  the  conversation  became  general. 

Mr.  Stanley  took  an  opportunity,  however,  to  speak  in 
a  low  voice  to  his  wife,  saying,  "  My  love,  where  have 
you  hid  yourself  ?  I  looked  in  vain  for  you  to  return  to 
the  chamber." 

Marion  had  only  time  to  give  him  a  glance  of  affec- 
tion-, before  she  was?  addressed  by  one  of  the  company. 


IN    DISGUISE.  99 

When  the  more  substantial  viands  had  been  disposed 
of,  and  the  dessert  brought  in,  Mrs.  Warren,  one  of  the. 
company,  remarked  that  the  flowers  were  exceedingly 
fresh,  supposing  they  had  been  brought  from  the  city. 

With  a  smile,  Mrs.  Stanley  replied,  "  I  have  a  fairy 
who  arranges  mv  flowers  for  me,"  and,  looking  around 

gf 

the  table,  for  the  first  time  noticed  that  Alice  was  not 
present.  "  Where  has  the  child  vanished  ?  "  she  asked, 
quickly. 

"  She  did  not  corne  to  dinner,  mamma,"  replied  Emma 

"  Go  to  her  room,  Sarah,"  said  Mrs.  Stanley,  address- 
ing a  servant,  "  and  tell  her  I  cannot  excuse  her."  From 
the  expression  on  Gertrude's  face,  she  feared  the  child 
had  been  purposely  kept  away. 

Sarah  soon  returned,  and  whispered  to  her  mistress 
that  Alice  was  weeping  bitterly. 

A  shade  passed  over  the  bright  countenance  of  the 
hostess,  but  she  said  no  more.  She  noticed,  however, 
that  Gertrude  was  talking  in  an  excited  manner  to  a 
gentleman  opposite,  and  that  Uncle  Stephen,  who  was 
the  first  to  miss  his  little  favorite,  and  to  suspect  some- 
thing wrong,  scarcely  moved  his  eyes  from  her  face. 

The  very  first  moment  Mrs.  Stanley  was  at  liberty, 
she  hastened  to  Alice,  but  found  Louis  had  preceded 
her.  The  poor  child  had  wept  herself  sick,  and  was 
leaning  her  aching  head  upon  her  arms,  which  were 
lying  on  a  table.  It  was  a  long  time  before  her  kind 
friend  could  obtain  any  satisfactory  account  of  the  cause 
of  her  grief.  She  at  length  told  her,  however  unpleasant 
it  might  be  to  complain  of  another,  it  was  plainly  her 
duty  to  confide  it  to  her. 


JOO  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"  1  know,"  said  the  child,  with  an  affecting  appearance 
of  humility,  "  I  know  that  I  ought  not  to  feel  so  badly 
I  do  forget  that  I  have  no  right  to  be  treated  like  the 
others,  for  I  am  only  a " 

"  Alice !  "  said  Mrs.  Stanley,  with  decision,  "  tell  rne 
instantly  what  has  happened.  You  are  as  dear  to  me 
as  any  of  my  children." 

The  young  girl  tried  to  suppress  her  sobs,  as  she  said, 
"  After  I  had  finished  arranging  the  table,  I  came  to  my 
room  to  prepare  for  dinner.  I  had  just  curled  my  hair, 
and  mother  had  been  up  to  assist  me  to  dress,  when 
Gertrude  came  in,  and  told  me  that  my  conduct  had 
been  so  improper  that  I  could  not  go  to  the  table  ;  that 
the  whole  family  were  ashamed  of  rne  for  forcing  myself 
upon  them  as  if  I  were  a  daughter,  or  any  thing  but  a 
servant." 

"  What  had  you  been  doing  that  she  considered  so 
improper  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  was  that  Clarence  helped  make  the  bou- 
quets ;  but  I  did  not  ask  him  to  do  so.  I  told  him  he 
had  better  return  to  the  parlor." 

"  Yes,  I  understand,"  said  Mrs.  Stanley,  sighing  heav- 
ily. "  Now.  Alice,  I  am  sure  you  have  no  wish  to 
render  me  unhappy." 

"  No,  indeed,  ma'am." 

"  Then  bathe  your  eyes,  go  down  and  eat  your  dinner. 
Your  mother  is  at  the  table  now.  Then  I  will  come  up 
and  dress  you,  for  I  must  have  my  little  girl  look  hei 
best  to-night." 

"  I  had    rather  not   go   into   the    parlor,"    murmure< 
Alice.     "  I  could  not  keep  from  crying." 


IN    DISGUISE.  101 

"  You  will  at  least  try,  when  it  will  please  me,"  and 
she  led  the  child  to  the  sink,  and  stood  by  her  until  she 
had  bathed  her  eyes  and  head.  She  then  accompanied 
her  to  the  dining-room,  and  said  to  the  nurse,  "  I  want 
you  to  see  that  my  little  fairy  has  a  good  dinner." 

Mrs,  Carey's  appearance  puzzled  Mrs.  Stanley.  She 
averted  her  face,  and  seemed  determined  not  to  answer. 
Tier  conduct  only  made  her  mistress  the  more  deter- 
mined upon  a  plan  she  had  long  thought  of,  and  which 
will  be  mentioned  in  another  chapter. 

It  was  nearly  an  hour  before  Mrs.  Stanley  could  find 
an  opportunity  to  leave  her  guests.  When  she  did,  she 
found  Alice  intently  occupied  in  reading,  having  for  the 
time  forgotten  all  her  trials.  The  kind  lady  had  taken 
great  pleasure  in  preparing  a  suitable  wardrobe  for  her 
young  friend,  it  being  her  husband's  wish  that  there 
should  be  no  difference  in  the  appearance  of  the  children. 

She  now  went  to  her  own  drawer,  and,  taking  from  it 
a  yard  of  wide  blond  lace,  basted  it  for  a  berthe  into  the 
dress,  which  was  crimson  merino,  and  which  was  highly 
becoming  to  her  fair  complexion.  Her  hair,  which  curled 
naturally,  afforded  a  sufficient  covering  to  her  white  and 
.plump  neck.  Mrs.  Stanley  was  delighted  with  the  ap- 
pearance of  her  protege,  as  she  stood  unconscious  of 
her  beauty,  her  eyes  cast  down  with  winning  grace. 

When  they  entered  the  parlor,  Alice  accompanied  her 
friend  around  the  room,  giving  to  each  her  hand  as  they 
expressed  their  pleasure  at  seeing  her.  There  was  noth- 
ing like  forwardness  at  any  time  in  Alice;  nothing  that 
could  appear  like  a  wisli  to  put  herself  in  the  way  of 
others.  Neither  was  she  bashful ;  but  on  this  occasion 
9' 


1 02  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

there  .vas  a  Slight  diffidence,  arising  from  the  reflections 
called  up  by  Gertrude's  unkindness,  which  deepened  the 
color  in  her  cheeks,  and  added  greatly  to  her  beauty. 
The  young  people  pressed  forward  to  speak  with  her, 
and  to  interest  her  in  some  games  they  were  planning 
for  the  evening.  But  during  the  whole  afternoon  she 
kept  her  place  at  Mrs.  Stanley's  side,  with  Uncle  Stephen 
near  her. 

At  length  Clarence  approached,  and,  in  a  grave  tone, 
asked  her  if  she  were  doing  penance,  that  she  sat  so 
quietly  while  her  companions  in  the  recess  were  in  such 
a  frolic. 

"  She  is  not  doing  penance  for  her  own  sins,"  replied 
Marion,  quickly,  seeing  Alice  was  distressed. 

"  Nor  for  mine,  I  hope,"  exclaimed  Clarence,  his  brow 
contracting  with  a  sudden  thought.  He  did  not  wait  for 
an  answer,  but,  drawing  a  chair  near  the  group,  entered 
warmly  into  conversation  with  Mrs.  Jenks,  wife  of  the 
family  physician.  They  talked  of  India,  and  Clarence 
persuaded  his  guardian  to  give  the  ladies  an  account  of 
one  of  the  feasts  of  the  natives.  Before  he  had  finished, 
Mr.  Stanley  and  Mr.  Badger  joined  them ;  and,  when 
they  were  called  to  tea,  Alice  thought  she  had  never 
passed  a  more  pleasant  hour  than  the  last. 


CHAPTER     IX. 

*  Alas !  I  am  but  a  woman,  fond  and  weak, 
Without  even  power  my  proud,  pure  love  to  speafe  ; 
But,  oh  !  by  all  I  fail  in,  love  not  me 
For  what  I  am,  but  what  I  wish  to  be."  —  Mrs.  Osg-jod. 

TUB  Christmas  holidays  were  certainly  not  wanting  in 
excitement  to  one,  at  least,  of  the  family  at  Lindenwood 
Hall.  Having  gained  the  ready  permission  of  her  hus- 
band, Mrs.  Stanley  proposed  to  Mrs.  Carey  to  adopt 
Alice,  and  educate  her  as  she  would  her  own  child. 

The  mother's  only  response  to  this  proposal  vvas  a 
sudden  burst  of  tears. 

"  I  have  property  of  my  own,"  continued  the  lady, 
and  I  have  no  claims  upon  me.  If  I  should  be  taken 
away,  I  do  not  with  her,  with  sensibilities  and  tastes 
highly  refined  and  cultivated,  to  be  left  to  the  cold  charity 
of  the  world.  If  you  will  give  her  to  me,  I  promise  at 
once  to  make  suitable  provision  for  her,  and  henceforth 
to  treat  her  as  a  child,  though  I  can  hardly  love  her  more 
than  I  do  at  present.  You  will  probably  see  as  much  of 
her  as  you  do  now,  for  I  shall  certainly  do  nothing  to 
diminish  her  affection  for  you." 

"  Well,  then,  take  her,"  answered  Mrs.  Carey,  abruptly, 
"  and  may  she  prove  a  comfort  and  a  blessing  1o  you  ; " 
and  she  turned  suddenly  away,  and  hastened  to  an  inner 
-oom,  leaving  her  friend  in  doubt  whether  her  strong 
emotions  were  to  be  ascribed  to  her  excess  of  gratitude, 

103 


104  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

or  to  her  great  affection  for  the  child.  If  the  latter,  shi1 
certainly  had  a  strange  maniier  of  exhibiting  it.  Her  sin 
gular  conduct  had  sometimes  led  Mrs.  Stanley  to  think 
her  even  prejudiced  against  Alice.  But,  thankful  for  the 
permission  to  take  her,  she  left  Mrs.  Carey's  cottage  and 
walked  slowly  home,  wondering  what  Alice  would  say 
io  the  change  in  her  relation  to  the  family. 

She  had  scarcely  entered  the  park,  when  a  merry  shout 
of  laughter  reached  her,  and  she  soon  saw  the  young  girl 
drawing  Louis,  who,  loosing  his  hold,  had  fallen  off 
the  sled,  with  which  Alice  was  running  away  at  full 
speed,  unconscious  that  she  had  lost  her  charge.  Mrs. 
Stanley  joined  in  the  laugh  at  Louis's  expense,  and  left 
them,  requesting  Alice,  on  returning  to  the  Hall,  to  come 
to  her  room. 

An  hour  later  they  joined  her,  when  she  beckoned  the 
rosy  girl  to  a  seat  at  her  side,  while  Louis  took  his  favor- 
ite place  on  an  ottoman  at  her  feet. 

"  I  am  glad  you  came,  too,  my  son,"  she  said,  pushing 
back  his  soft  hair  from  his  white  forehead,  "  because  I 
have  some  good  news  for  you." 

"  And  for  me,  too  ?  "  asked  Alice,  gayly. 

"  Perhaps  so,"  she  replied,  smiling  pleasantly.  "  Louis," 
she  added,  "  how  should  you  like  a  sister  about  your  own 
age?" 

The  boy  started  to  his  feet,  and  gazed  earnestly  at  her 
for  a  moment,  and  then  said,  in  a  plaintive  tone,  "  I 
should  rather  not  have  one,  if  Alice  must  go  away.  No- 
body else  will  love  me  as  she  does." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  his  mother,  "  you  shall  have  her  for 
your  sister.  What  say  you  to  this,  Ally  ;  will  you  be  my 
little  daughter  ?  " 


IN    DISGUISE.  105 

The  poor  child  arched  her  eyebrows,  and  looKed  at 
Mrs.  Stanley  in  astonishment 

"  She  will !  she  will !  "  shouted  Louis,  joyfully.  "  I 
know  she  will !  " 

"  I  should  \'"'p  dearly  to  have  you  for  my  mother,"  said 
the  child,  "  and   Louis  always  has  been  like  a  brother 
but  I  don't  understand  how  it  can  be." 
•  Mrs.  Stanley  then  told  her  that  she  and  her  husband 
had  long  wished  to  adopt  her,  and  that  her  mother  had 
consented. 

"  And  will  she  come, too?"  inquired  the  child,  eagerly 

"  I  said  nothing  to  her  about  it,  and  I  presume  she  will 
prefer  to  live  at  the  cottage,  as  she  has  done  ;  but  we 
shall  always  welcome  her  here  for  your  sake,  my  love." 

Alice  was  very  thoughtful  for  a  moment,  and  then 
asked,  "  Would  it  be  exactly  right  for  me  to  leave  my 
mother?  Sometimes  she  likes  to  have  me  there;  and  if 
she  should  be  sick  —  " 

"  You  can  do  everything,  in  such  a  case,  as  if  you  had 
never  left  her.  1  should  be  the  last  one  to  keep  you  from 
her." 

"  And  she  is  willing?"  asked  the  child,  her  countenance 
growing  very  bright. 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  then,  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  be  your  little 
girl,"  and  she  threw  her  arms  about  Mrs.  Stanley's  neck, 
to  beg  for  a  seal  to  their  new  contract.  Louis  pressed 
up  for  his  share,  and  the  good  lady  laughed  as  she  de- 
clared there  would  soon  be  nothing  left  of  her. 

"  Save  a  piece  for  me,"  said  a  manly  voice,  close  at 
hand,  and  the  merry  group  started  to  see  Mt.  Stanley 


106  THE    HOr.MCIlOLD    ANGEL 

behind  them.  When  he  had  heartily  joined  in  the  laugh 
his  sudden  appearance  called  forth,  his  wife  introduced 
her  new  daughter,  who  looked  very  lovely  as  she  .stood 
before  him  with  downcast  eyes. 

"  Remember,  you  are  mine,  too,"  he  said,  tenderly,  as 
he  drew  her  to  him,  and  kissed  her  brow. 

Louis  could  not  sufficiently  thank  his  parents  for  so 
dear  a  sister,  and  said  earnestly,  "  I  had  rather  have  Alice 
for  my  own,  than  a  whole  bag  full  of  Uncle  Stephen's 
money,  about  which  Edith  talks  so  mur-h." 

"  Well,  she  is  your  own,  now,"  replied  his  father, 
though  rather  sadly,  as  he  thought  of  the  mercenary 
spirit  his  daughter  displayed  ;  "  but  go  now  to  play.  I 
want  to  see  your  mother." 

When  they  had  gone,  Marion  resumed  her  sewing, 
while  her  husband  took  a  seat  near  her ;  but  seemed 
somewhat  embarrassed.  The  truth  was,  he  had  watched 
her  very  closely  for  a  few  days,  and  had  become  fully 
assured  that  she  could  explain  the  circumstances  con- 
nected with  the  miniature,  to  his  entire  satisfaction.  He 
had  come  now  to  her  room,  to  ask  her  to  confide  all  her 
trials  to  him  ;  but  he  found  her  looking  so  happy  in  the 
loving  embrace  of  her  children, —  and,  indeed,  he  though! 
her  unusually  so  since  Christmas  eve,  —  that  he  did  no!' 
like  to  allude  to  so  disagreeable  a  subject. 

Marion  glanced  up  from  her  work,  and  smiled  pleas- 
antly, though  she  wondered  a  little  that  he  did  not  speak. 

"  My  dear  wife,"  he  said  at  length,  "  I  have  one  ques- 
tion to  ask  you,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  answer  it,  if  you 
can  properly  do  so.  You  know  I  am  a  very  plain  man, 


IN    DISGUISE.  107 

perhaps  rather  too  reserved  in  ray  expressions  of  aftec- 
tion  ;  but  I  hope  you  have  never  doubted  my  true  love 
for  you." 

The  young  wife  dropped  her  work,  and  hid  her  face 
on  her  husband's  shoulder.  Her  heart  beat  wildly;  bur 
she  suppressed  every  outward  demonstration  of  her  feel- 
ings and  said,  with  as  much  calmness  as  she  could  as- 
sume, "  Is  that  the  question  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  a  very  important  one  to  me,  my  love,  but 
not  the  one  to  which  I  then  referred  ; "  and  he  drew  her 
nearer  to  him. 

"  1  cannot  think  of  any  subject  upon  which  I  should 
be  unable  to  be  perfectly  frank  with  you,"  sha  resumed, 
with  some  surprise. 

"  It  referred  to  a  miniature  I  once  saw  in  your  hands, 
and  which  you  thrust  out  of  sight,"  continued  he,  speak- 
ing quickly,  and  not  without  some  difficulty. 

The  light  beamed  from  her  eyes,  as  she  drew  a  locket 
from  the  pocket  in  her  boddice,  and  held  it  up  to  him ; 
"  was  it  this  ?  "  she  asked,  eagerly. 

He  recognized  the  setting  at  once,  and  the  deepest 
mortification  took  possession  of  his  breast,  as  he  saw  it 
was  a  flattered  likeness  of  himself.  His  eyes  seemed  to 
fastened  upon  it,  as  he  held  it  attached  by  a  chain  io  her 
neck. 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  displeased?"  asked  Marion,  not 
understanding  his  grave  looks.  "  I  painted  it  from  mem- 
ory, before  we  were  married  ;  and  it  was  only  a  foolish 
nride,  which  I  much  regret,  if  it  has  given  you  pain, 
which  prevented  me  from  showing  it  to  you." 

"  1  regret  only,  my  true-hearted  wife,"  said  Mr.  Stanley 


108  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

with  moistened  eyes,  —  though  he  seldom  shed  a  tear,  — 
"that  I  have  never  known  your  real  worth,  and  that  1 
should,  even  for  a  moment,  have  been  distrustful  of 
you." 

A  long  conversation  ensued,  in  which  all  former  cold- 
ness was  explained,  though  Marion  passed  very  lightly  over 
her  own  trials.  She  wondered  now,  how  she  could  ever 
have  called  them  so ;  though  she  frankly  acknowledged 
what  had  led  her  to  undertake  the  task  of  writing  a  book. 
u  Now,"  she  added,  "  that  I  am  sure  of  the  confidence 
and  love  of  my  husband,  I  have  done  with  publishers 
forever."  When  the  supper-bell  called  them  below,  she 
said,  archly,  as  she  replaced  the  precious  miniature,  "  I 
will  give  you  anything  but  this,  in  my  possession.  This 
is  my  dearest  treasure.  When  you  are  grave,  I  have 
only  to  come  up  here,  and  gaze  at  your  smiling  face." 

"  It  is  very  much  flattered,"  he  said,  pleasantly. 

She  shook  her  head  and  whispered,  as  they  went 
through  the  hall,  "  It  looks  just  as  you  did  then,  and 
just  as  you  do  now." 

"  I  will  endeavor  never  to  drive  you  to  your  locket  for 
a  smile,"  he  ad~ded,  impressively. 

Their  countenances  expressed  so  much  happiness,  that 
the  whole  family  gazed  earnestly  at  them  as  they  en- 
tered. "What  a  fine-looking  pair!"  whispered  Mr. 
Huntii  gton  to  Edith,  who  laughed  merrily. 

"  Ah'36  came  to  my  room  to  tell  me  some  news,"  re- 
marked Uncle  Stephen,  when  they  were  seated  at  the 
table;  "I  rejoiced  with  her  in  having  found  such  a 
mother,  and  now  I  rejoice  with  you  in  having  found 
guch  a  child."  This  was  a  great  speech  for  the  old 


IN    DISGUISE.  109 

gentleman,  and  a  more  flattering  one  than  he  was  often 
known  to  make.  But  his  oddities  were  fast  disappear- 
ing, and  this  evening  the  family  were  destined  to  witness 
the  abrupt  termination  of  one  of  his  strange  whims. 

As  he  was  at  quite  a  distance  from  her,  Marion  could 
only  bow  her  thanks,  as  she  proceeded  to  pour  the  tea ; 
but  the  other  members  of  the  family  warmly  discussed 
the  subject.  Clarence  noticed,  with  pain,  that  neither 
Gertrude  nor  Edith  expressed  pleasure  at  the  new  rela- 
tion of  Alice  to  them. 

When  the  rest  had  retired  from  the  table,  Uncle  Ste- 
phen detained  Mrs.  Stanley,  and  asked  her  to  allow  him 
to  communicate  to  the  family  the  fact  of  her  being  the 
unknown  authoress.  He  added,  "  I  have  a  secret  of  my 
own  to  reveal,  which  will  not  a  little  astonish  them,  and 
I  may  as  well  tell  yours  at  the  same  time." 

"  Have  you,  too,  become  an  author  ? "  asked  she, 
quickly  putting  the  trumpet  to  her  mouth. 

Uncle  Stephen  leaned  forward,  and  whispered  four 
short  words  in  her  ear.  There  are  few  shorter  in  the 
language ;  but  Marion  started  back  in  astonishment,  and 
gazed  at  him,  wondering  if  she  had  heard  him  aright. 

"  You,  certainly,  are  in  no  danger,'*  said  the  old  gen- 
tleman, clapping  his  hands,  and  laughing  aloud,  "what- 
ever some  of  your  daughters  may  be.  Mum  is  the  word," 
he  added,  as  he  followed  her  to  the  parlor. 

The  evening  proved  stormy,  and  the  family  drew  up 
before  the  fire,  and  sat  down  to  enjoy  a  pleasant  chat. 
After  conversing  for  half  an  hour  upon  the  general  topics 
of  the  day,  Mr.  Sydney  said :  "  I  wish  we  had  another 

10 


110  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

book  for  this  evening's  reading,  as  good  as  '  The  Tale 
of  Home  Life.' " 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Stephen! "interrupted  Emma,  "  I  have  not 
thought  since  I  came  home  to  thank  you  for  my  beau- 
tiful present." 

"  Nor  I,"  added  Edith,  getting  up,  in  order  to  speak. 

"  I  wrote  my  thanks  at  once,"  said  Mr.  Huntington  to 
Edith.  "  The  way  that  book  sold,  at  the  stores  in  New 
Haven,  was  a  caution,  as  the  students  say ;  but  there 
was  great  enthusiasm  to  know  the  author.  Have  you 
ever  heard  the  work  ascribed  to  Mrs.  L ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Edith  ;  "  but  I  think  it  likely  it  may 
be  hers." 

"  What  does  she  say  ?  "  asked  the  old  gentleman,  lean- 
ing forward  in  his  chair. 

Emma  repeated  her  sister's  remark. 

"  No, it  is  n't!"  exclaimed  he,  starting  up  from  his  seat, 
and  looking  very  triumphantly  around,  as  if  he  were 
about  to  claim  the  authorship  himself. 

Mr.  Stanley  gaxed  proudly  at  his  wife,  who  bent  over 
her  work;  but  the  rest  exhibited  unmitigated  astonish- 
ment. 

"  Ask  him  if  he  knows  who  is  the  author,"  enjoined 
Gcrtmde,  impatiently. 

"  Your  mother  does,"  he  replied. 

"  Then,"  said  Clarence,  "  I  hope,  Mrs.  Stanley,  you  will 
arge  her  to  use  the  talent  God  has  given  her  for  writing, 
and  give  us  another  work  speedily." 

"  I  should  think,"  resumed  Gertrude,  in  a  low  voice, 
"  she  might  have  gratified  our  curiosity  by  telling  us 
before  this." 


IN    DlSGriSK.  1  1  1 

Mr.  Stanley  took  no  notice  of  this  speech  if  he  heard 
it;  but,  as  his  wife  seemed  painfully  embarrassed,  h.. 
remarked,  "  I  heard  the  authoress  say  that  she  only 
wrote  for  a  specific  purpose,  and,  having  accomplished 
that,  she  was  satisfied  to  lay  down  her  pen.  This,  how- 
ever, I  agree  with  you,  Clarence,  she  ought  not  to  do." 

"  Then  you  know  her,  too,  father,"  said  Louis,  after 
looking  earnestly  in  his  father's  face. 

"  I  declare,"  exclaimed  Edith,  "  I  do  believe,  after  all, 
it  was  Uncle  Stephen  himself.  Just  see  how  mysterious 
he  looks."  And  certainly  he  did  appear  rather  suspicious. 
He  clapped  his  hands,  and  shouted,  "  It's  the  best  joke  1 
ever  heard.  Can  none  of  you  guess  ?  " 

"  I  can,"  replied  Alice,  walking  up  to  him,  and  taking 
the  trumpet.  "  I  can,  if  I  may." 

"  Out  with  it,  then,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  unable 
longer  to  contain  himself. 

"  I  think,"  continued  Alice,  pausing  a  moment,  and 
looking  at  Mrs.  Stanley  to  see  if  she  disapproved,  "  my 
new  mamma  wrote  it." 

"  That's  it!  "  shouted  4he  old  man,  catching  her  in  his 
arms. 

The  whole  family,  with  the  exception  of  Marion,  v<> 
to  their  feet  with  astonishment.     "Yes,"  responded   M: 
Stanley,  taking  the  hand  of  his  wife,  who  would  have 
been   glad   to  escape  from  the  room,  "  I  am   proud  to 
recognize,  in  the  writer  of  that  exquisitely  touching  tale, 
my  own  dear  wife,  who  wrote  it  in  order  to  prove  to  her 
husband  what  he  well  knew  before,  that  she  was  worth} 
of  his  love.     It  has  been  as  great  a  surprise  to  me  as  I 
s«%e   it  is  to  you;  but  I  have  been  almost   equally  asion- 


112  THE    HOUStHOLD    ANGEL 

ished  to-day  to  find  that  writing  is  not  her  only  accom- 
plishment " 

"  Oh,  don't !  not  now !  "  urged  Marion,  imploringly. 

"  Yes,  let  us  have  it,"  said  Uncle  Stephen.  "  We'll 
dedicate  the  evening  to  surprises ;  and  she  may  weave 
another  tale  about  them." 

"  I  find,"  resumed  the  happy  husband,  "  that  my  wife 
is  not  only  an  authoress,  but  an  artist,  and  paints  minia- 
tures with  equal  skill  and  secrecy." 

"  And  I  find,"  exclaimed  Uncle  Stephen,  throwing  his 
speaking  trumpet  across  the  room,  "  that  I  can  hear  as 
well  as  ever  I  could,"  and  he  fell  back  into  his  chair,  and 
laughed  so  heartily  that  his  nephew  really  feared  he 
would  have  a  convulsion.  "  It's  as  good  as  a  comedy," 
he  shouted,  when  he  could  speak.  "  This  surprise  is 
worth  all  the  trouble  I've  had  with  the  old  serpent" 
(alluding  to  his  coiled  trumpet).  "  It  has  served  me  a 
good  turn,"  he  said,  recovering  himself,  "an. \  I  may  a3 
well  keep  it  for  the  good  it  has  done." 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  emotions  e  tperienced 
by  the  different  members  of  the  family.  L  deed,  one 
surprise  had  so  quickly  succeeded  another,  tha{  they  had 
not  yet  recovered  from  the  first.  Mrs.  Stanle} .  her  hus- 
band and  two  younger  children,  felt  only  delight  that 
Uncle  Stephen  was  so  suddenly  relieved  from  his  infirm* 
ity.  Emma's  thoughts  recurred  to  various  expvessi<>i  3 
she  had  used,  which  mortified  her  extremely;  and  Mr. 
Huntington's  mind,  to  several  tender  speeches  made  in 
his  presence  to  Edith,  under  the  false  impression  that  he 
could  not  hear.  But  to  Gertrude  and  Edith  the  an- 
nouncement was  anything  but  pleasant.  To  the  eldest, 


IN    DISGUISK.  1  l>i 

particularly,  the  fact  was  specially  annoying,  as  she 
thought  of  her  free  conversations  with  her  sister  con- 
cerning Clarence  and  himself,  and  the  disposal  of  his 
property  —  conversations  which  she  had  no  doubt  he  had 
repeated  to  his  ward. 

But  Uncle  Stephen  soon  relieved  their  embarrassment, 
stating  his  reasons,  which  within  a  few  weeks  he  had 
begun  to  think  were  very  foolish,  for  pretending  to  be 
deaf.  "  My  principal  motive  in  it,"  he  added,  "  was  to 
learn  the  characters  of  those  with  whom  I  wished  to 
pass  the  remainder  of  my  days.  My  object,  I  must  con- 
fess, has  been  achieved,  and  the  ordeal  to  which  I  have 
subjected  you  has  proved  highly  honorable,  far  more  so 
than  I  dared  to  hope.  If  in  any  case  it  has  been  other- 
wise, and  I  have  heard  myself  denounced  as  '  a  great 
Mogul,'"  he  added,  laughing  merrily,  "  I  have  no  doubt 
I  well  deserved  the  title ;  and  in  every  case  I  have  kept 
the  knowledge  thus  acquired  sacredly  to  myself." 

At  thes'e  words,  Gertrude  began  to  breathe  more 
freely ;  and  the  family  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh,  as 
Louis,  from  the  force  of  habit,  walked  up  to  his  uncle, 
and  asked,  earnestly,  "  And  were  you  playing  blind,  too, 
with  the  goggles  ?  I  think  your  eyes  are  very  bright." 

"  Yes,  Louis,  I  must  confess  to  the  goggles  too.  I 
frightened  you  well  at  first ;  but  you  soon  grew  to  love 
your  old,  blind,  deaf  uncle,  and  I  hope  you  wont  stop 
now,  when  you  know  I  can  see  and  hear  as  well  as  you 
can." 

When  they  separated  for  the  night,  Gertrude  and  her 
sisters  each  gave  their  mother  a  kiss,  as  they  expressed 
their  great,  pleasure  in  recognizing  her  as  an  authoress 
10* 


1J4  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

• 

and  an  artist.  It  is  but  just  to  the  first  to  say  that  in 
her  embrace  there  was  more  of  real  cordiality  than  she 
had  ever  shown ;  for  she  felt  not  only  pride  at  her 
mother's  talents,  but  something  of  tenderness  tcfward 
one  who,  as  she  had  often  repeated  of  the  unknovui 
author,  must  be  possessed  of  the  keenest  susceptibilities. 
After  she  retired,  and  the  subjects  of  the  evening  had 
been  earnestly  discussed  with  her  sister,  she  lay  awake 
many  hours,  keenly  regretting  the  course  she  had  pursued 
toward  her  mother.  She  now  realized  that  she  had 
wofully  misjudged  her ;  and,  after  a  tedious  effort  to 
so^ve  many  things  which  she  never  had  been  able  to 
understand,  and  wondering  how  Mrs.  Stanley  could 
have  treated  her  and  her  sisters  so  kindly  when  they  had 
so  underrated  her,  light  began  to  dawn  upon  her  mind, 
and  she  acknowledged  the  power  and  the  beauty  of 
religion,  as  exemplified  in  her  mother's  daily  life. 

Marion  too  passed  a  sleepless  night.  The  events  of 
the  afternoon,  as  well  as  of  the  evening,  had  been  ex- 
citing to  her  in  the  highest  degree.  The  restoration  of 
Uncle  Stephen  to  his  hearing  had  been  so  sudden  and 
unexpected  that  she  could  hardly  reali/e  how  he  would 
appear  without  his  invariable  accompaniment,  The  car- 
trumpet.  She  could  not  refrain  from  laughing  to  herself 
at  the  strange  whim  which  had  prompted  such  a  course, 
though  she  acknowledged  the  shrewdness  of  the  strata- 
gem. She  recalled  numerous  instances  in  which  he 
must  have  found  it  difficult,  with  his  impulsive  feeling*, 
to  maintain  silence.  But,  more  than  everything  else. 
the  cordial  embrace  of  Gertrude,  and  the  whispered 
words,  "  Father  may  well  be  proud  of  you,"  were  sug- 


IN    DISGUISE.  115 

gestive  of  so  many  thoughts  that  she  tried  in  vain  to 
sleep.  Next  to  the  respect  and  love  of  her  husband,  she 
had  earnestly  craved  the  affection  of  his  daughters. 
Emma  was  already  dutiful  and  childlike.  Gertrude, 
though  considered  amiable,  had  always  treated  her  with 
great  reserve.  Now  she  shed  tears  of  joy  at  the  thought 
that  this  icy  coldness  was  passing  away,  and  that  her 
daughter  would  return  her  love.  All  former  unkindness 
was  for  the  time  forgotten,  and  Marion  looked  fowvard 
with  bright  anticipations  to  a  happy  future.  Witl  re- 
spect to  Edith,  her  mother  well  knew  that  nothing  but 
divine  grace  could  change  so  lofty  a  spirit,  and  cause 
her  willingly  to  bow  to  authority ;  but  she  did  not  feel 
wholly  discouraged  even  with  regard  to  her.  She  deter- 
mined to  go  on  cheerfully  in  the  path  of  duty,  thankful 
that  she  could  pray  for  her  children,  and  that  God  could 
turn  their  hearts  to  himself  and  to  her.  She  doubted 
whether  she  should  ever  again  be  subjected  to  the 
annoyances  which,  on  her  first  coming  into  the  family, 
had  been  so  wounding  to  her  feelings.  And  she  was 
right. 

The  next  morning,  her  midnight  prayer  seemed  to 
have  been  answered.  When  she  entered  the  breakfast 
room,  Gertrude  alone  was  there,  who  came  directly  to 
her,  though  not  without  a  heightened  color,  and,  like 
Alice,  gave  her  a  morning  kiss,  saying,  with  an  attempt 
at  cheerfulness,  "  Good  morning,  mother.  I  came  down 
early  in  the  hope  of  getting  my  share  in  your  embrace." 

Mrs.  Stanley's  eyes  were,  humid  as  she  replied,  ten- 
'Jerly,  "  Good  morning,  my  dear  child." 

At  the  breakfast  table  much  merriment  was  caused  by 


L16  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

Uncle  Stephen.  From  the  force  of  habit,  Mr.  Stanley 
passed  him  his  plate  without  speaking,  and  then  requested 
Emma,  who  sat  by  his  side,  to  ask  him  if  he  would  be 
helped  to  anything  more.  Each  time  the  old  gentleman 
burst  into  a  merry  laugh,  as  he  said,  "  So,  you're  deter- 
mined the  old  man  shall  be  deaf,  whether  or  no."  He 
told  them  he  had  had  some  difficulty  to  bring  Clarence 
into  the  plan,  and  that  he  himself  had  often  been  obliged 
to  leave  the  room  hastily,  for  fear  .of  exposing  himself. 

During  the  forenoon  he  went  to  the  parlor  for  the 
morning  papers,  and  found  Alice  tfiere  with  her  books. 
He  sat  down  to  read,  but  noticed  that  every  time  he 
glanced  at  her,  her  eyes  were  fixed  upon  him  with  a 
sad,  inquiring  expression.  At  length  he  became  so  nerv- 
ous under  her  earnest  gaze,  that  he  asked,  "  What  is  the 
matter,  child  ?  What  makes  you  look  at  me  so  ?  " 

Alice  blushed,  and  began  studying  vigorously. 

"  Why  don't  you  answer  me  ?  "  he  asked,  rather  impa- 
tiently. 

"  I  didn't  know  what  I  was  doing,  sir,'  she  answered, 
timidly ;  and  she  took  her  book  and  was  hastening  from 
the  room. 

"  Alice  !  "  he  called,  authoritatively,  "  come  here?  '' 

She  instantly  obeyed,  though  he  saw  it  was  with  re- 
luctance. 

"  Were  you  thinking  about  me,  child  ?  " 

Her  lip  quivered,  and  for  one  moment  she  hesitated  ; 
but,  seeing  that  he  was  determined  to  wait  for  her  reply, 
she  faltered  out,  "  Yes,  sir." 

"  And  pray  what  have  I  done  that  you  should  be  gaz- 
ing at  me  with  tears  in  your  eyes  ?  Come,  now,  tell  mo 
all  j "  and  he  affectionately  took  her  hand. 


IX    DISGUISE.  1J7 

"  I  was  only  wondering,"  replied  the  child,  in  an  al- 
most inarticulate  voice,  "  whether  it  were  wrong  to  make 
us  all  think  you  couldn't  hear,  when  you  could." 

"  And  you  feared  your  old  friend  had  been  deceiving, 
hey  ?  » 

Alice  burst  into  tears,  but  soon  recovered  herself,  and 
answered,  "  I  was  afraid  so.  I  didn't  think  it  was  quite 
right.  But  you  know  better  than  I  do,  sir  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  know  half  as  \vell !  "  he  exclaimed,  pull- 
ing, with  a  jerk,  his  handkerchief  from  his  pocket. 
"  There,  don't  cry  any  more  for  an  old  sinner  like  me." 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  the  young  girl  put  her 
arms  around  Uncle  Stephen's  neck,  and  tried  to  soothe 
him  ;  for,  indeed,  the  idea  that  his  conduct  had  caused  this 
truth-loving  child  to  weep  for  his  sins,  sent  a  keen  pang 
through  his  heart.  "  'Twas  all  wrong,  child,  all  wrong 
from  the  first ;  I  see  it  was,"  he  sobbed  out,  "  and  you 
must  ask  God  to  forgive  me.  You're  a  good  girl  to  tell 
me  so.  It's  the  way  my  sister  used  to  do,  and  you're 
just  like  her,  so  don't,  you  feel  badly  any  more ;  but  if 
you  ever  see  me  doing  anything  you  think  wrong,  come 
and  tell  me.  Will  you  promise  to  do  so  ?  " 

She  bowed  her  assent,  and  ran  from  the  room. 

"  There,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  I  don't  believe  there's 
another  creature  living  who  would  mourn  over  my  sins 
as  she  did  ;  but  it  was  hard  for  her  to  tell  me  of  them. 
I'd  give  all  I'm  worth  if  she  was  mine."  From  this  time 
Mr.  Forsyth  seemed  to  associate  the  thought  of  Alice 
with  his  deceased  sister,  and  regarded  her  almost  with 
veneration. 

On   New  Year's  day  the  family  at  Lindenwood   en- 


118  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

joyed  a  fine  game  of  blind-man's  buff.  The  tables  and 
chairs  had  been  removed  from  the  dining-hall,  and  the 
whole  circle,  with  the  exception  of  the  millionaire  ana 
his  nephew,  were  actively  engaged  in  the  game.  These 
gentlemen  had  drawn  their  chairs  into  the  most  retired 
corner,  beyond  the  sideboard,  and  made  themselves  merry 
with  watching  the  evolutions  which  the  young  people 
made,  in  order  to  escape  detection.  Uncle  Stephen  en- 
tered most  heartily  into  the  sport,  shouting  by  turns, 
"  There,  you've  caught  her  !  "  "  Hold  on  !  "  "  Now  she's 
gone  !  "  "  There,  you  have  her  again  ! "  "  Who  is  she  ?  " 
"  Gertrude  ?  no  !  I'll  be  blinded  myself  next  time ;  with 
my  goggles  on,  I  could  do  better  than  that ! "  and  his 
merry  laugh  rang  through  the  room. 

But  their  sport  was  suddenly  suspended  by  a  loud 
scream  in  the  entry,  where  the  whole  company  rushed, 
and  found  the  cry  proceeded  from  Louis,  who,  in  coming 
from  the  kitchen  with  an  apple,  had  encountered  one  of 
the  monkeys.  The  animal  tried  to  snatch  the  fruit  from 
his  hand,  and,  in  consequence  of  defending  himself, 
caught  his  finger  and  bit  him  severely.  Poor  LomVcried 
and  sobbed  with  pain,  lung  after  the  cross  anima'  had 
been  carried  back  to  his  confinement. 

Uncle  Stephen  was  very  wrathy,  and  catching  his  cane 
from  the  rack,  in  the  hall,  went  quickly  to  the  shed  to 
give  the  offending  creature  a  cudgelling.  Polio  was  evi- 
dently expecting  punishment,  and  had  slunk  away  into 
•the  farther  corner  of  the  cage. 

"  Come  out  here,  sir ! "  shouted  the  enraged  man, 
stamping  his  foot.  But  the  creature  only  nestled  closer 
in  the  corner.  He  put  in  his  cane  and  struck  Polio  a 


IN    DISGUISE.  119 

blow,  when  lie  felt  some  one  gently  pulling  his  coat,  and 
a  sweet  voice  asked,  "  Did  he  know  any  better,  sir  ?  " 

He  dropped  the  stick,  and  replied,  in  an  excited  voice, 
"  Yes,  he  did  know  better,  and  he  shall  be  punished." 

Alice  looked  distressed. 

«  Well,  what  shall  I  do  with  him  ?  " 

"  Do  you  love  them  very  much  ?  "  she  asked,  smiling, 
as  he  stood  before  her,  his  velvet  cap  turned  awry,  so  that 
the  tassel  hung  down  by  his  cheek. 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  not  very  much." 

"I  don't  like  monkeys  at  all !"  exclaimed  the  child, 
wilh  a  strong  expression  of  disgust ;  "  I  think  they're  very 
trouolesome." 

« 

"  Well,  shall  I  get  Thomas,  the  groom,  to  kill  them  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  answered  Alice,  in  unaffected  horror. 

"  What,  then  ?     You  may  decide." 

"  May  I  ?  Oh,  thank  you  !  Robert  Perry  would  like 
them  so  much,  and  his  father  promised  to  buy  him  one." 

"  Well,  Robert  Perry  shall  have  them  in  welcome." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  repeated.  "  How  glad  the  servants 
will  be  to  get  rid  of  them."  And,  indeed,  there  was 
great  rejoicing  at  the  hall,  when,  the  next  day,  Polio  and 
Sally  appeared  chained  together,  and  were  led  away  lu 
the  village,  by  the  groom.  No  less  rejoiced  was  Ma.-ti  i 
Robert  at  the  reception  of  what  he  considered  a  mosi 
valuable  commencement  of  his  long-desired  menagerie, 
and  at  being  informed  that  the  cage  in  which  they  were 
kept  would  immediately  follow. 

Alice  stood  at  the  \\indow  with  Uncle  Stephen,  when 
Thomas  led  them  down  the  avenue.  "  I  should  like  to 
know,"  he  said,  "  what  I  am  to  do  now  for  sport." 


120  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

"  You  may  take  me,"  answered  the  child,  laughing 
heartily  at  the  half-regretful  look  he  cast  at  his  old  favor- 
ites. "  They  don't  love  you  half  so  well  as  I  do." 

He  turned  to  catch  her  in  his  arms  ;  but  she  playfully 
eluded  his  grasp,  and  for  the  next  ten  minutes  there  was 
a  merry  game,  the  like  of  which  Polio  and  Sally  in  thcii 
palmiest  days,  never  enjoyed.  Uncle  Stephen  was  satis- 
fied with  the  exchange  of  playmates. 


CHAPTER    X. 

"  Let  them  die, 

Let  them  die  now,  thy  children  !  so  thy  heart 
Shall  wear  their  beautiful  image  all  undimm'd, 
Within  it  to  the  last."  —  Mrs.  Hemans. 

IT  was  a  clear  frosty  morning  in  March.  The  night 
had  been  tempestuous,  and  the  snow,  which  had  fallen 
the  whole  of  the  p'eceding  day,  was  blown  into  deep 
drifts,  leaving  spots  of  ground  entirely  bare. 

The  inmates  of  Lindenwood  Hall  had  scarce  left  it 
for  more  than  a  week  ;  but  they  had  received  a  daily  vis- 
itor. No  matter  how  cold,  wet,  or  stormy,  morning  and 
evening  the  light  vehicle  of  Dr.  Jenks,  the  family  physi- 
cian, was  seen  driving  up  the  avenue,  to  the  front  en- 
trance. 

On  the  morning  in  question,  Gertrude  stood  at  the  par- 
lor window,  hearkening  impatiently  for  the  sound  of  the 
sleigh-bells.  Her  eyes  were  red  and  swollen  with  weep- 
ing, and  ever  and  anon  she  took  her  handkerchief  from 
her  pocket,  to  wipe  away  the  falling  tears.  "  He  cannot 
get  here,"  she  murmured,  as  she  gazed  down  the  street 
and  saw  ho  ?  completely  it  was  blocked  up  with  snow; 
and,  turning  from  the  window,  she  ascended  the  stairs. 

In  a  large,  square  chamber,  at  the  back  of  the  house, 
the  family  were  assembled  ;  for  Louis  lay  pale  and  pant- 
ing upon  the  bed.  Yes,  Louis  was  dying 

He  had  for  ien  days  suffered  1'rom  an  attack  of  con- 
gestion of  the  lungs;  and  no  skill  had  sufficed  for  his 
11  121 


122  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

cure.  The  most  tender  mother  could  not  have  been  more 
watchful  over  an  only  and  dearly  beloved  son,  than  was 
Mrs.  Stanley  over  this  dear  child  of  her  adoption.  For  a 
week  she  had  not  left  his  couch,  and  now,  exhausted  and 
faint,  she  sat  on  the  side  of  the  bed,  holding  his  head 
upon  her  breast.  Alice  knelt  before  him.  On  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  bed  stood  the  afflicted  father.  Not  a  tear 
relieved  his  bursting  heart.  He  stood  gazing  intently  on 
his  only  son,  his  ashy  countenance  resembling  death,  in 
the  calm  rigidity  of  its  suffering  features.  As  he  stood 
there  his  soul  cried  out,  in  agony,  ''  Spare,  Lord !  spare 
me  this  stroke  !  "  How  he  longed  for  the  arrn  of  strength 
which  supported  his  wife  in  this  hour  of  trial ;  nay,  which 
was  safely  carrying  his  beloved  Louis  across  the  deep 
waters  of  Jordan. 

Near  the  window,  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  sat  Uncle 
Stephen,  and  by  him  Clarence,  who  was  saying  some- 
thing in  a  low,  earnest  tone.  When  Gertrude  entered, 
he  advanced  to  her  with  great  tenderness,  took  her  hand,, 
and  led  her  to  the  seat  he  had  occupied.  Beyond  Alice 
sat  Mrs.  Carey,  her  face  entirely  concealed  by  her  hand- 
kerchief, with  which  she  was  vainly  trying  to  stifle  her 
sobs. 

xAt  length  the  dying  boy  aroused  from  the  stupor  in 
which  he  had  been  lying  for  more  than  an  hour,  and  from 
which    they  feared    he    would    never   awake,   languidly 
opened  his  eyes,  gazed  for  a  moment  upward,  and,  turn- 
ing his  head  slightly,  recognized  his  father.    Alice  sprang 
to  her  feet,  and  wet  his  lips  with  wine  and  water,  when 
feebly  murmured  "  Papa." 
His  father  bent  over  him,  when  he  lisped,  in  a  broken 


IN    DISGUISE.  * 

voice,  "  I  want  yon  io  hold  my  head,  and  let  all  the  rest 
go  out." 

Trembling  in  every  limb,  Mr.  Stanley  did  as  his  son 
requested,  and  took  the  place  of  his  wife  to  support  his 
dying  boy.  At  a  signal  from  her,  the  family  retired 
quietly  from  the  room. 

"  Dear  Papa,"  said  the  child,  "  please  lay  my  head  back 
so  I  can  see  your  face."  When  this  was  done,  the  slight 
motion  had  so  distressed  him  that  he  breathed  with  great 
difficulty.  With  what  hopeless  sorrow  did  the  poor 
father  witness  the  agony  of  this  darling  boy,  and  feel 
that  he  could  do  nothing  for  his  relief.  After  a  short 
pause  Louis  raised  his  eyes,  and  said  in  broken  accents 
"  Papa,  I'm  going  to  God,  and  I'm  not  afraid,  for  Jesus 
has  pardoned  my  sins.  But  before  I  go  I  want  you  to 
promise  to  meet  me  there." 

Mr.  Stanley  bent  forward  in  uncontrollable  grief,  and 
tried  to  speak  ;  but  his  voice  was  thick  and  husky,  and 
the  words  indistinct. 

The  dying  child  gazed  earnestly  in  his  face,  and  con- 
tinued, "  Mother,  and  Alice,  and  Uncle  Stephen,  will  go 
because  they  love  the  Saviour!  but  oh,  father !  I  shall 
want  you  and  my  sisters  there !  " 

The  father  groaned  in  agony. 

"  Jesus  loves  you,  papa.  He  wants  you  to  go.  I  have 
prayed  for  you,  and  mamma  prays  every  day  that  you 
may  become  a  Christian.  I  don't  think  you  know  how 
much  she  loves  you,  and  wants  you  to  become  good.'' 
After  another  pause  to  rest,  he  added,  u  I  have  askec/ 
mamma  to  give  you  my  miniature,  which  she  painted 
and  I  want  you  to  look  at  it,  and  think  how  much  yo\v 


124  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGKL 

little  Louis  wanted  you  to  become  good,  and  prepare  fi; 
go  to  Heaven.  Will  you,  papa  ?  " 

Mr.  Stanley  bowed  ;  he  dared  not  trust  himself  tc 
speak. 

"  You  have  been  very,  very  kind  to  me,  papa,  and  so 
l;as  my  dear  mamma ;  and  I  want  you  to  love  her  very 
much.  I  have  seen  her  kiss  your  picture  a  great  many 
times,  and  heard  her  pray,  '  Oh,  God,  bless  my  dear  hus- 
band ! '  but  she  didn't  know  I  saw  her." 

Again  Mr.  Stanley  groaned,  as  he  cried  out,  "  Oh, 
God,  forgive  me  ! " 

"  And  —  I  iv ant  —  my  —  dear  —  Alice  — to  —  "  his 
voice  faltered,  and  his  head  sank  back  more  heavily  on 
his  father's  arm.  Mr.  Stanley  hastily  called  "  Marion  !  " 
apprehensive  of  his  immediate  death. 

The  young  mother  was  instantly  at  his  side.  His  eyes 
were  fixed  ;  one  low  sob,  and  the  soul  of  little  Louis 
took  its  flight  to  its  heavenly  home. 

Awe-struck  and  motionless  at  the  presence  of  the  dread 
visitor,  the  family  stood  by  the  bed  until  the  kind  phy- 
sician, who  had  silently  entered,  gently  leaned  forward 
to  close  the  eyes.  Then,  the  awful  reality  burst  upon 
them,  and  amid  weeping  and  lamentation,  the  bereaved 
circle  retired  from  the  chamber  of  death. 

Mrs.  Stanley  accompanied  her  husband  to  his  study 
where,  for  a  time,  he  walked  the  floor  in  comfortless  sor- 
row. At  length,  she  prays  that  the  sorrowful  event  may 
become  a  great  and  lasting  blessing  to  her  husband  and 
remaining  children.  After  a  moment  he  comes  forward 
and,  kneeling  by  her  side,  ejaculates,  "  Pray  for  me  ! " 

Marion  continued  her  supplications.     She  plead  earn- 


IN    DISGUISE. 


126 


estly  for  her  husband,  wrestling  like  Jacob  :  "  I  will  not 
let  thee  go,  except  thou  bless  me."  She  seemed  borne 
on  wings  of  faith  and  love  to  the  mercy-seat,  and  there 
boldly  entered  into  the  presence  of  the  Eternal.  Her 
Saviour  was  interceding  jn  her  behalf,  and  she  received 
an  assurance  that  her  prayer  was  heard. 

The  subject  of  her  intercession  was  lost  in  wonder  at 
her  fervency  and  importunity.  "  Is  she  then  so  earnest 
in  imploring  a  blessing  upon  me  ? "  he  asked  himself, 
"  and  shall  I  not  strive  to  attain  the  same  grace  which 
supported  my  dear  Emma,  and  my  only  son,  in  their 
dying  hour  ?  "  The  arrow  of  conviction  penetrated  his 
heart.  Who  shall  say  it  was  not  in  answer  to  the 
prayers  of  his  wife  and  son?  He  bowed  his  head  in 
agony  for  his  own  guiltiness.  The  language  of  his  heart 
was,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner." 

Marion  arose,  and  silently  left  the  room ;  but  he  knew 
it  not.  One  thought  alone  occupied  his  mind :  "  Is  there 
mercy  for  me  ?  Can  a  holy  God  pardon  guilt  like  mine?  " 
For  a  long  time  he  despaired  of  mercy. 

The  day  passed,  and  also  the  night ;  but  he  still  re- 
mained locked  in  his  study.  When  the  servants  knocked, 
he  made  no  reply.  His  wife  gently  called  him  by  name, 
but  received  no  answer.  Yet  she  heard  his  step  as  he 
walked  back  and  forth  through  the  room,  and  retired  to 
her  own  chamber.  Fatigued  and  exhausted  as  she  was, 
by  incessant  watching,  yet  she  could  not  retire,  but  alter- 
nately read  portions  of  Scripture,  and  poured  out  her 
heart  before  God.  At  a  late  hour  she  again  descended 
the  stairs,  passed  noiselessly  through  the  hall,  and  listened 
at  the  study  door. 

11* 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANG1 L 

What  caused  her  heart  to  leap  for  joy,  and  sent  thn 
bright  flush  of  heaven-inspired  hope  over  her  counte- 
nance, as  she  raised  her  tearful  eyes  to  Heaven  ?  Ah 
her  prayer  is  answered.  For  the  first  time,  she  hears  the 
voice  of  her  beloved  husband  addressing  his  Maker, 
Pressing  her  hands  to  her  heart,  she  returns  to  her  room, 
and  throwing  herself  upon  a  couch,  gives  vent  to  her  joy 
and  gratitude  until,  at  length,  she  falls  asleep. 

But  with  the  first  ray  of  light  the  devoted  wife  arises 
from  her  couch,  and  again  approaches  her  husband's 
door.  Hearing  no  sound,  she  knocks  gently,  saying, 
"  It  is  Marion."  She  hears  him  approach  and  unlock 
the  door;  one  moment  more,  and  she  is  in  his  arms. 
Happy  pair,  now  truly  united,  by  the  enduring  tie  of 
Christian  love  ;  henceforth  sharing,  truly,  each  other's 
hopes,  and  sympathizing  in  each  other's  fears ! 

Mr.  Stanley  has  not  yet  spoken  of  the  heavenly  peace 
which  has  taken  the  place  of  his  midnight  despair.  But 
she  reads  it  in  the  holy  calmness  which  rests  upon  his 
brow,  in  the  gratitude  and  love  which  beam  from  every 
feature.  He  is,  indeed,  a  new  man ;  born  of  God,  an 
heir  of  glory.  Thy  faith,  gentle  Marion,  hath  inheriied 
the  promise,  and  saved  thy  husband.  While  thou  didst 
sleep,  he  was  left  like  a  lone  voyager  upon  the  sea  of 
time ;  his  bark  wrecked,  and  his  companions  lost.  He 
cried  aloud,  attempting  to  save  himself  by  the  stray 
waifs  drifting  in  the  current.  Even  these  scon  failed 
him.  He  found  there  wras  no  hope,  and  gave  himself  up 
,  to  the  rude  tide,  to  be  carried  whithersoever  it  drifted. 
Suddenly,  he  heard  a  voice  of  mercy,  saying,  "  Look 
unto  me,  and  be  saved."  He  raised  his  eyes  to  Heaven, 


IN    DISGUISE.  T-27 

and  from  his  inmost  soul  the  cry  went  forth  "  Flelp, 
Lord,  or  I  perish."  A  strong  arm  was  outstretched  for 
his  relief.  Eagerly  he  seized  the  offered  help.  He  was 
saved  ! 

On  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  Mr.  Stanley  sent  for 
his  family  to  his  study,  which  had  been  to  him  as  the 
gate  of  heaven.  Here  for  the  first  time  he  met  them 
since  they  stood  side  by  side  in  the  chamber  of  death. 

All  were  present  but  Clarence,  who  had  gone  to  T 

for  Emma  and  her  sister.  Gertrude  was  pale  and  sad, 
and  wept  afresh  at  sight  of  her  father.  Alice  nestled 
close  to  her  mother,  and  hid  her  swollen  face  upon  her 
shoulder.  Uncle  Stephen  sat  with  his  eyes  shaded  by 
his  hand,  vainly  trying  to  repress  his  sobs,  while  Mrs. 
Carey,  Sarah,  and  the  other  servants,  occupied  places 
about  the  apartment,  wondering  why  they  had  been 
called  together.  At  length,  Mr.  Stanley,  in  a  voice 
which  was  at  first  so  tremulous  as  scarcely  to  be  audible, 
imparted  to  them  the  hope  that  out  of  his  son's  natural 
death,  God  had  brought  unto  him  eternal  life.  "  I  have 
found,"  he  added,  "  the  compassionate  love  of  my  Sa- 
viour to  be  more  than  sufficient  to  compensate  me  foi 
the  loss  of  dear  children  and  friends." 

"Thank  God!  oh,  thank  God!"  ejaculated  Uncle 
Stephen. 

After  a  few  moments,  Mr.  Stanley  continued,  "  I  have 
called  you  all  together  to  tell  you  that  henceforth,  by 
grace  assisting  me,  T  hope  to  live  a  different  life,  and  to 
set  before  my  family  an  example  more  worthy  of  imita- 
tion. I  have  prided  myself  in  being  a  moral  and  an 
honorable  man,  and  so  perhaps  I  have  been  in  the  eyes 


1^  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

of  the  world;  but  God  has  been  pleased  to  open  my 
eyes  to  a  sense  of  my  vilene-ss,  and  I  have  found  that 
mere  morality  will  not,  cannot  sustain  one  at  the  bed 
of  death."  He  then  read*  a  short  passage  from  Scrip- 
ture, and  called  upon  the  family  to  kneel  for  prayer 
Marion  could  hardly  realize  the  happy  change.  Her 
heart  was  ready  to  burst,  and  her  eyes  ran  down  with 
tears. 

The  grief  of  the  sisters  when  they  arrived  at  Linden- 
wood,  rendered  desolate  by  the  loss  of  their  dear  brother, 
showed  itself  in  a  manner  characteristic  of  them.  Emma 
stood  over  the  beloved  form  shrouded  and  coffined  for 
the  sepulchre,  and  gazed  tearfully  upon  the  countenance 
so  lovely  in  death,  while  Edith,  after  one  hurried  glance 
at  the  cold  and  lifeless  body,  rent  the  air  with  her 
shrieks.  Her  convulsive  sobs  and  doleful  lament  did 
not,  however,  touch  the  heart  of  her  father  like  the  silent 
sorrow  of  Emma ;  and  he  hoped  that  this  great  affliction 
might  result  in  good  to  her  soul. 

The  grief  of  Alice  at  the  loss  of  her  beloved  compan- 
ion at  length  convinced  her  kind  friends  that,  however 
paiuful  the  separation,  it  would  be  better  to  send  her  to 
school  with  her  sisters.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  Mrs. 
Stanley,  and  even  her  husband,  felt  more  reluctant  to 
part  with  her  than  with  one  of  their  own  children.  In 
the  mind  of  the  latter  she  was  so  intimately  associated 
with  his  deceased  Louis,  that  he  considered  her  almost 
sacred.  For  so  many  years  had  they  been  seen  con- 
stantly together,  that  the  bereaved  father,  as  he  saw  her 
approach,  often  detected  himself  in  listening  for  the  low 
voice  or  the  light  footstep  of  his  dear  boy.  But  she 


IN    DISGUISE. 

never  foigot.  Not  once  since  he  had  passed  from  hei 
sight  had  a  smile  been  seen  upon  her  lips.  In  the 
presence  of  the  family  she  seldom  wept ;  but  she  had 
often  been  found  alone  in  the  bay  window,  the  heavy 
curtains  shielding  her  from  view,  weeping  as  if  her  young 
heart  would  break.  She  had  carefully  treasured  up 
every  scrap  of  writing  or  drawing  with  which  her  dear 
Louis  had  amused  himself,  and  begged  a  box  of  her 
mother  for  their  preservation.  When  it  was  proposed  to 
her  to  accompany  her  sisters  to  school,  she  shrank  from 
the  thought  of  going  among  strangers,  and  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  remain  at  home.  But  one  day,  after  a  long 
conversation  with  Clarence,  she  expressed  her  willingness 
to  do  what  her  friends  thought  best. 

At  the  same  time,  Uncle  Stephen  sought  a  private 
interview  with  his  nephew,  during  which  he  said  it  was 
his  wish  to  give  Alice  a  thorough  education,  for  which 
purpose  he  would  put  money  into  his  hands,  and  that  he 
would  be  glad  if  Mrs.  Stanley  would  provide  her  a  suit- 
able wardrobe  at  his  expense.  His  nephew  decidedly 
refused  this  kind  offer.  "  She  is  as  dear  to  me  as  an 
own  child,"  he  added,  earnestly,  "  and  I  promised  my 
lamented  Emma  I  would  educate  her  as  such." 

Uncle  Stephen  was  not  at  all  pleased  that  his  little 
protdgd  should  be  taken  out  of  his  hands,  and  used  many 
arguments  to  persuade  his  nephew  to  consent.  But  Mr. 
Stanley  was  firm.  At  length,  however,  he  was  induced 
by  the  evident  disappointment  of  his  uncle  to  take  the 
money  which  had  been  designed  to  pay  her  expenses  at 
school,  and  to  put  it  at  interest  for  her  use ;  and  with 
this  the  benevolent  old  gentleman  was  obliged  to  con- 


130  THE     HOUSEHOLD    ANUEL 

tent  himself,  saying,  "  I  shall  add  to  it  the  same  sum 
every  year  ;  but  I  know  you  have  too  much  good  sense 
to  let  the  child  or  any  one  else  suspect  me  in  this  mat- 
ter." 

In  the  month  of  June,  the  sisters,  accompanied  by 
Alice,  returned  to  school.  Mr.  Stanley,  in  private,  urged 
his  daughters  to  treat  her  in  every  respect  like  an  own 
sister.  This  Emma's  own  heart  prompted  her  to  do, 
but,  from  the  haughty  toss  of  Edith's  head,  her  mother 
had  many  fears  in  regard  to  the  happiness  of  her  adopted 
child. 

There  were  two  in  the  family  who  rejoiced  that  the 
young  girl  would  go  to  school.  These  were  Gertrude 
and  Mrs.  Carey.  The  latter  had  been  unwell  ever  since 
the  death  of  Louis,  and  her  illness  had  brought  on  an 
attack  of  her  temporary  insanity.  At  such  times,  the 
sight  of  her  child  always  aggravated  her  disorder,  and 
Mrs.  Stanley  had  now  procured  a  faithful  woman  to 
remain  with  her  as  companion  and  nurse.  This  woman 
was  a  widow  from  the  village,  in  destitute  circumstances, 
who  was  very  grateful  for  the  home  thus  afforded  for 
herself  and  child. 

Poor  Alice  had  been  very  much  troubled  about  her 
mother ;  but,  as  she  had  seen  her  afflicted  in  this  man- 
ner at  times  from  her  earliest  childhood,  the  severity  of 
the  trial  was  somewhat  diminished. 

Gertrude  could  ill  conceal  her  pleasure  at  the  depart- 
ure of  one  whom  she  conceived  occupied  far  more  than 
her  share  of  the  time  and  attention  of  Clarence.  But 
her  pleasure  was  shortly  changed  to  keen  disappointment 
and  chagrin,  when  she  found  the  reason  of  the  child's 


IN    DISGUISE.  131 

willingness  to  go,  and  heard  from  Clarence  that  he 
advised  her  to  such  a  course  in  consequence  of  his 
intending  to  be  in  Philadelphia  for  a  year  or  two,  and 
therefore  unable  to  teach  her  longer. 

For  a  few  days  after  this  announcement,  Gertrude 
appeared  so  sad,  her  eyes,  usually  brilliant,  were  so 
heavy,  that  the  young  man  was  constantly  in  danger 
of  breaking  his  promise  to  his  guardian,  and  of  beseech- 
ing the  pledge  of  her  hand  before  he  left.  He  even  went 
so  far  as  to  request  to  be  released  from  it,  but  in  this  he 
was  entirely  unsuccessful.  Uncle  Stephen  would  give 
no  reason,  but  said,  promptly,  "  If  she  is  what  you  deem 
her,  she  will  wait  your  return." 

But  the  very  day  after  this  conversation,  and  while 
the  disappointed  lover  feared  his  guardian  had  forgotten 
his  own  youthful  feelings,  he  was  forced  by  the  change 
in  the  young  lady's  manner  to  own  that  the  delay  might 
in  the  end  be  promotive  of  his  own  happiness.  Uncon- 
sciously, his  address  had  been  more  tender  since  her 
evident  sorrow  at  his  intended  departure.  On  the  morn- 
ing in  question,  he  seated  himself  by  her  side,  and  at- 
tempted to  engage  her  in  conversation.  She  listened 
coldly,  only  replying  by  monosyllables,  until  at  length, 
in  answer  to  some  question,  she  turned  haughtily  toward 
him,  fixing  her  eyes  full  upon  his,  as  she  asked,  coldly, 
"  What  did  you  remark,  sir  ?  " 

Had  an  iceberg  fallen  upon  him,  he  could  not  have 
been  more  chilled.  He  could  scarcely  believe  his  senses. 
He  started  from  his  seat,  and,  approaching  the  window, 
stood  for  a  long  time  gazing  out  upon  the  lawn.  No 
one  but,  her  inether  noticed  ihr  triumphant  smile  which 


K  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

curled  her  lip  as  she  dropped  her  work  to  gaze  at  him 
Daring  Ihe  day,  he  avoided  her  as  sedulously  as  she  did 
him  ;  but  after  tea,  when  the  diminished  circle  drew 
around  the  centre-table,  he  took  a  seat  near  her,  and 
appeared  determined  to  treat  her  with  his  usual  atten- 
tion. In  truth,  he  had  convinced  himself  her  apparent 
coldness  had  only  been  the  result  of  his  own  imagina- 
tion. He  tried  to  devis*e  some  plan  to  draw  her  to  a  dis- 
tance from  the  rest  of  the  family,  and  offered  to  give 
her  one  more  lesson  in  drawing  before  he  eft,  when  she 
replied,  "  I  have  already  wasted  quite  too  much  of  your 
time  and  my  own,  upon  an  accomplishment  for  which  I 
have  no  taste." 

The  entrance  of  company  put  an  end  to  any  farther 
conversation  ;  and  when  Clarence  saw  her  whom  but 
that  very  morning  he  had  believed  possessed  of  every 
charm,  arouse  from  her  gloom  and  become  the  life  of  the 
circle,  evidently  delighting  in  the  thought  that  she  had 
inflicted  pain  upon  him,  he  grew  colder  and  more  distant 
than  ever.  She  paid  the  most  marked  attention  to  a 
gentleman  who  had  called  with  a  friend,  at  the  same  time 
casting  glances  of  triumph  at  her  disconsolate  lover,  who 
soon  plead  his  early  departure  as  an  excuse  for  leaving 
the  room. 

Uncle  Stephen  followed  him,  but  his  presence  afforded 
his  ward  but  poor  comfort,  for  never  since  the  death  of 
Louis  had  he  appeared  so  gay.  He  rubbed  his  hands, 
and  chuckled  to  himself  merrily,  as  he  saw  Clarence 
with  knitted  brows  walking  impatiently  back  and  forth 
through  the  room  ;  and  at  length  could  not  forbear  say- 


IN    DISGUISE.  133 

ing,  "  It's  a  hard  thing  to  get  one's  eyes  open  ;  but  when 
they  are  —  " 

"  Yes,  when   they  are !  "  interrupted  Clarence,  bitterly 
*  it  i*  not  so  easy  to  shut  them  again  " 


CHAPTER    XT. 

"  For  true  charity, 
Though  ne'er  so  secret,  finds  a  just  reward  "  —  Slay, 

IN  a  room  in  one  of  the  college  buildings  in  New 
Haven,  a  young  man  might  be  seen  sitting  in  a  large 
rocking  chair,  with  his  feet  on  the  table  before  him.  He 
had  just  returned  from  dinner,  and  on  his  way  had  taken 
a  letter  from  the  post  office.  Now,  having  placed  him- 
self in  what  he  considered  a  comfortable  position,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  tear  it  open.  From  the  deep  flush  which  suf- 
fused his  cheek,  as  well  as  the  smile  playing  about  his 
mouth,  one  might  reasonably  infer  that  the  intelligence 
was  agreeable.  When  he  had  finished  it,  he  opened  a 
smaller  envelope  it  had  contained,  and  disclosed  a  roll  of 
bank  bills.  "  Generous  friend !  "  he  exclaimed,  aloud, 
"  how  can  I  ever  repay  his  kindness  ?  He  says,  by  never 
alluding  to  it.  How  little  he  realizes  the  difficulty  of 
keeping  silent,  when  the  heart  is  overflowing  with  grati- 
tude." He  counted  the  money,  saw  that  there  was  more 
than  sufficient  to  pay  all  his  college  bills,  then  crossed  the 
room  and  locked  it  in  his  trunk ;  after  which  he  again 
seated  himself,  with  the  open  letter  in  his  hand.  It  was 
as  follows : 

"  DEAR  ALFRED  :  —  Your  letter  was  duly  received,  and 
perused  with  great  pleasure.  As  you  have  at  length 
made  up  your  mind  to  study  for  the  ministry,  I  will  con- 

134 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL    IN    DISGUISE.  135 

fess  to  you  that  nothing  you  could  have  told  me  regard- 
ing yourself,  would  have  given  me  equal  pleasure.  For 
years  I  have  hoped  that  you  would  choose  the  profession 
to  which  your  father  devoted  you  in  your  infancy  ;  but  I 
have  never,  as  you  well  know,  expressed  my  hopes  upon 
this  subject,  fearing  they  might  have  undue  weight.  If, 
however,  as  I  hope  and  pray,  you  enter  upon  your  studies 
for  the  sacred  work,  from  a  desire  to  be  wholly  engaged 
in  your  Master's  service,  and  have  not  chosen  it  merely 
as  an  honorable  profession,  though  your  trials  may  be 
great,  yet  such,  also,  will  be  your  reward. 

u  I  have  recently  received  letters  from  India,  which  I 
will  show  you,  if  you  feel  a  desire  to  comply  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Stanley's  invitation,  and  spend  the  coming 
vacation  with  us.  As  ever,  your  friend, 

STEPHEN  FORSYTH." 

While  Alfred  Huntington  reclines  in  his  chair,  with_his 
eyes  fixed  dreamingly  upon  the  name  of  his  kind  bene- 
factor, let  us  go  back  twenty  years,  and  learn  the  com- 
mencement of  their  acquaintance. 

During  the  fourth  year  of  Uncle  Stephen's  residence 
in  India,  and  before  he  heard  the  sad  intelligence  which 
blighted  his  hopes  of  happiness  for  this  life,  he  was  one 
day  introduced  to  Mr.  Huntington,  as  a  young  Amer- 
ican who  was  on  the  point  of  returning  to  his  native 
country,  and  who  would  be  glad  to  take  letters,  or  any- 
thing he  might  wish  to  send.  Mr.  Forsyth  gazed  at  him 
in  surprise,  such  was  the  sadness,  amounting  to  mel- 
ancholy, depicted  on  his  fine,  manly  countenance,  and 


136  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

remarked,  "  You  hardly  look  as  I  should  on  the  eve  of 
my  departure  for  home." 

"  This  is  my  home,  my  chosen  field  of  labor,"  replied 
the  young  missionary,  "  and  it  is  the  greatest  trial  I  eve/ 
experienced,  to  be  obliged  to  leave  it." 

In  the  course  of  the  conversation  which  followed,  Mr. 
Huntington  related  to  his  interested  listener  some  of  the 
circumstances  of  his  early  history,  when  he  \vas  early 
an  orphan ;  but,  by  the  kindness  of  a  charitable  lady, 
he  had  been  educated  for  the  ministry.  The  desire  of  his 
life  was  answered  when  he  was  sent  to  India  as  a  mis- 
sionary, the  bishop,  who  had  always  been  a  kind  friend  to 
him,  having  interested  himself  particularly  in  his  welfare. 
He  was  married,  and  had  had  three  children,  one  of 
whom  had  died  within  a  few  hours  of  its  birth.  On  his 
arrival  in  Calcutta,  he  proceeded  at  once  to  his  station, 
about  fifty  miles  from  that  place  ;  and  he  believed  his 
labors  had  not  been  entirely  unsuccessful.  Schools  had 
been  established ;  his  wife,  whose  heart  was  wholly  in 
her  work,  had  drawn  around  her  about  twenty  females, 
mothers  of  the  children  under  their  care,  and  was  teach- 
ing them  the  arts  of  civilization,  at  the  same  time  that 
she  endeavored  to  instil  the  principles  of  the  gospel  into 
their  benighted  minds.  A  small  church  had  been  gath- 
ered, consisting  of  seven  male  and  three  female  members. 
"  And  now,"  said  Mr.  Huntington,  with  great  emotion, 
"  we  must  abandon  our  little  charge,  our  schools  must  be 
given  up ;  now,  when  we  have  spent  years  in  acquiring 
the  language,  and  when  we  have  become  so  hopeful  of 
good  to  these  poor  ignorant  natives,  we  must  leave  om 
feeble  church  to  be  torn  to  pieces." 


IN    DISGUISE.  137 

•'  But  \vliy  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Forsyth,  eagerly. 

"  For  want  of  means,  my  dear  sir.  A  year  age  1  was 
notified  that  the  usual  sum  had  not  been  raised,  and  that 
the  society,  though  with  great  reluctance,  had  been 
obliged  to  cut  down  the  salaries  of  all  their  missionaries. 
Now  they  have  written  that  they  can  no  longer  support, 
this  station  —  that  they  are  obliged  to  give  up  all  the" 
new  stations,  and  confine  their  operations  to  the  larger 
fields." 

For  a  long  time  Mr.  Forsyth  sat  with  his  head  resting 
on  his  hand.  His  companion,  overcome  with  emotion, 
walked  with  hasty  strides  through  the  apartment,  occa- 
sionally casting  a  glance  of  wonder  at  the  man  before 
him,  until  at  length  he  turned  to  leave  the  room.  This 
aroused  Mr.  Forsyth,  and  he  started  forward,  saying,  "  I 
will  see  you  to-morrow,"  and  abruptly  took  his  depart- 
ure. Summoning  his  servants,  he  was  carried  in  a  pal- 
anquin to  the  house  of  a  friend  a  few  miles  distant,  from 
whom  he  obtained  satisfactory  information  concerning 
the  labors  of  Mr.  Huntington,  corroborative  of  what  he 
had  already  heard.  The  next  day  he  called  at  the  house 
of  the  American  merchant,  who  had  invited  the  family 
of  "the  missionary  to  remain  with  him  until  they  sailed. 
There  he  entered  into  conversation  with  the  devoted 
wife,  who  wept  as  she  thought  of  leaving  the  children 
she  had  so  earnestly  taught,  and  as  she  realized  the  dan- 
ger of  their  forgetting  all  her  instructions.  Here  he  soon 
learned  that  the  whole  expense  of  carrying  on  the  small 
mission  was  scarcely  a  quarter  of  his  own  income.  His 
only  remaining  doubt,  namely,  of  his  ability,  was  thus 
removed.  He  crossed  the  room  and  caught  his  astonished 
12* 


138  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

companion  by  the  hand,  when  he  suddenly  blushed,  stam- 
mered, and  became  painfully  confused. 

"  I  shall  ever  be  grateful  to  you  for  your  sympathy," 
said  Mr.  Huntington,  kindly. 

"  Poh  !  poh  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Forsyth,  "  I  don't  mean 
to  give  you  up.  Go  back  to  your  work.  I  will  see  that 
you  receive  regular  supplies  at  least  for  one  year." 

In  her  eagerness  to  hear  aright,  Mrs.  Huntington  sprang 
from  her  seat,  wholly  unmindful  of  the  little  boy  clinging 
to  her  dress,  and  advanced  to  the  side  of  her  husband. 
With  tears  of  joy  streaming  down  her  cheeks,  she  ex- 
claimed, "  Oh.  sir !  did  you  really  mean  that  we  may 
stay  in  India,  and  labor  for  our  poor  Hindoos  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  said  so ! "  replied  the  young  merchant, 
while  a  sympathizing  tear  stood  in  his  eye,  and  "  here's 
something  that  will  convince  you  so.  There,  there, 
enough  has  been  said,"  as  Mr.  Huntington  warmly  pressed 
his  hand,  and  uttered  a  fervent  "  God  bless  and  reward 
you,  sir !  I  have  no  words  to  tell  you  how  happy  you 
have  made  us."  His  wife  caught  Mr.  Forsyth's  bronzed 
hand,  and  pressed  it  to  her  lips,  saying,  "  In  the  name  of 
our  ignorant,  depraved  people,  we  do,  we  must  thank 
you."  She  was  interrupted  by  an  impatient  gesture,  and 
Uncle  Stephen  trying  to  leave  the  room  ;  but  her  hus- 
band stepped  forward  to  detain  him.  With  his  face  per- 
fectly radiant  with  happiness,  he  said,  "  We  will  not 
offend  you  by  expressing  our  gratitude  for  your  bounty 
to  the  heathen  ;  we  will  only  ask  your  prayers  to  accom- 
pany our  efforts." 

"  1  see  you  have  mistaken  me  ;  I  am  not  a  professing 
Christian  ;  "  and  a  deep  shade  passed  over  his  face,  "  but 


IN    DISGUISE.  139 

I  have  a  mother  up  there,"  said  he,  pointing  to  heaven, 
u  and  a  praying  sister  in  America  ;  "  and,  before  his  com- 
panions could  say  another  word,  he  hastily  left  the  house. 

After  his  abrupt  departure,  the  missionary  and  his  wife 
sat  for  some  minutes  in  profound  silence.  They  found 
it  difficult  to  realize  the  sudden  change  in  their  prospects, 
and  had  it  not  been  for  the  envelope  which  he  held  in  his 
hand,  Mr.  Huntington  might  have  feared  it  was  all  a 
dream.  Upon  opening  the  note  he  found  it  contained  a 
draft  to  the  amount  of  two  hundred  dollars,  and  a  prom- 
ise of  the  same  sum  quarterly.  This  was  three  hundred 
dollars  in  advance  of  the  salary  they  had  heretofore 
received,  and  the  visions  of  enlarged  schools,  with  books 
and  apparatus,  so  overcame  them  that  they  gratefully 
sank  upon  their  knees,  to  give  God  the  praise. 

"  Man's  extremity  is  God's  opportunity,"  said  Mr. 
Huntington  to  his  wife,  when  they  became  more  com- 
posed. "  This  morning  we  expected  to  be  obliged  to 
leave  our  little  flock,  and  we  feared  lest  the  years  of  labor 
among  them  would  soon  be  forgotten  ;  but  our  great 
Shepherd  has  watched  over  us,  and  provided  for  us.  At 
the  very  moment  when  our  need  was  greatest,  he  has  put 
it  into  the  heart  of  this  good  young  man  to  come  for- 
ward to  our  relief." 

• 

>  But  little,  even  then,  did  they  realize  what  a  friend  had 
been  raised  up  for  them.  They  returned  to  their  station, 
where  they  were  received  with  tumultuous  joy,  and  glad- 
dened the  hearts  of  their  pupils  by  collecting  them  again 
into  the  school,  enlarged  their  operations,  and  entered 
with  new  zeal  upon  their  work,  feeling  that  God  was 
with  them;  "and  they  were  prospered  in  the  work  of 
their  hands." 


140  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

Two  years  after  this,  Mr.  Forsyth  returned  to  his  na- 
tive country ;  but,  before  leaving  India,  he  made  ample 
provision  for  Mr.  Huntington,  toward  whose  enterprise 
he  felt  an  increasing  interest  During  the  six  years  he 
remained  in  America,  he  earned  on  a  constant  corres- 
pondence with  the  mission  ;  and  after  his  great  afflictions 
had  been  sanctified  to  his  soul,  he  became  more  than 
ever  alive  to  the  importance  of  such  a  work.  On  his  re- 
turn to  India,  though  his  means  were  less,  he  sent  another 
laborer  into  the  field,  as  an  assistant  to  Mr.  Huntington, 
depriving  himself  of  some  luxuries  in  living  he  had  here- 
tofore considered  indispensable.  During  his  residence  of 
sixteen  years,  he  visited  the  station  at  stated  intervals, 
and  every  time  he  did  so  he  blessed  God  for  having  put 
it  into  his  heart  to  do  this  great  work.  The  school  which, 
on  his  first  introduction  to  Mr.  Huntington,  was  on  the 
point  of  being  broken  up,  was  now  flourishing  under  the 
efficient  care  of  Mr.  Potter,  the  assistant  missionary, 
whose  wife  also  taught  the  girls.  This  seminary  had 
sent  out  twenty  native  Christian  teachers,  well  educated 
and  fitted  for  their  work. 

Alfred,  the  only  child  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Huntington, 
who  had  been  spared  to  them,  accompanied  Clarence  to 
America  qn  his  return  a  few  years  before  his  guardian, 
who  had  offered  to  educate  him.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hunting- 
ton  had  learned  to  look  upon  their  benefactor  as  a  dear 
Christian  brother ;  and  when,  in  addition  to  his  years  of 
kindness,  he  made  this  offer,  their  knowledge,  of  him  led 
them  to  suppress  any  acknowledgment  but  such  as  their 
tearful  eyes  and  beaming  countenances  afforded.  They 
gave  up  their  only  child  to  him,  with  perfect  confidence 


IN    DISGUISE.  ill 

in  his  protection  and  care.  It  had  been  their  greatest 
trial  that  their  child  could  not  receive  a  suitable  educa- 
tion, and  now  this  was  removed,  they  devoted  themselves 
with  new  diligence  to  the  work  in  which  they  were  PIJ- 
gaged. 


CHAPTER     XH. 

"  I've  sometimes  grieved 

That  one  so  formed  in  mind  and  eharrns  to  grace 
The  brightest  scenes  in  life,  should  have  her  seat 
In  the  shadow  of  a  cloud  ;  and  yet  'tis  weakness. 
The  angels  watch  the  good  and  innocent, 
And  where  they  gaze,  it  must  be  glorious." 

A  LARGE  party  was  again  gathered  in   Lin  den  wood 

Hall,  making  the  house  ring  as  of  old,  with  merry  voices. 
Two  years  have  passed  since  we  last  gathered  with  them 
around  the  social  hearth.  To  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stanley  time 
has  brought  no  visible  marks  of  advancing  age  ;  but  with 
Emma,  Edith,  and  Alice,  the  change  has  been  great. 
Edith  is  by  far  the  tallest  of  the  three,  and,  at  the  first 
glance  would  by  many  be  prone  unced  to  be  the  hand- 
somest But  neither  in  the  style  of  her  beauty,  nor  in 
her  manner,  did  she  at  all  resemble  her  sister  Gertrude, 
being  a  brilliant  brunette,  with  luxuriant  black  hair  dis- 
posed very  gracefully  around  her  head,  large  black  eyes, 
and  red,  pouting  lips,  while  her  imposing  and  self-eon fi- 
dent  air,  joined  with  a  playful  sarcasm  in  her  conversa- 
tion, had,  among  her  school-mates,  gained  her  the  reputa- 
tion of  a  genius  and  a  wit.  She  had  learned  to  curb 
her  temper,  and  now  appeared  a  warm-hearted,  impulsive 
girl.  To  Mr.  Huntington  she  seemed  the  most  beautiful 
and  talented  young  lady  he  had  ever  met. 

But  Emma,  who   was   two  years  older  should  have 

142 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL.  I4b 

been  described  first,  —  yet  she  had  so  long  learned  tc 
icau  upon  her  younger  sister,  that  she  almost  forgot 
that  Edith  was  her  inferior  in  years.  She  had  regular 
features,  light-blue  eyes,  and  a  very  sweet  moulh.  Her 
complexion  was  very  pale,  and  rather  sallow ;  but  she 
was  easy  and  graceful  in  her  manners,  and  a  very  lov- 
able young  lady.  At  school  one  had  been  admired,  the 
other  loved,  by  their  companions. 

Alice  Carey  is  much  more  difficult  to  describe.  There 
was  a  perfect  fascination  about  her ;  and  yet,  one  could 
hardly  tell  in  what  it  consisted.  She  was  slightly  below 
the  medium  height.  Her  form  was  well-proportioned, 
and  full  of  symmetry  and  beauty.  Her  hair,  which  had 
changed  to  a  rich  chestnut-brown,  she  still  wore  in  curls, 
which  afforded  a  partial  covering  to  the  slender  neck  set 
so  gracefully  upon  her  shoulders.  Her  broad,  low  fore- 
head, her  nicely-arched  eyebrows,  her  clear,  truth-telling 
eyes,  her  rose-bud  mouth,  and  her  ever-varying  com- 
plexion, soft  as  that  of  an  infant,  impressed  alike  the 
most  casual,  and  the  most  critical,  observer.  But  none 
of  these,  nor  all  of  them  combined,  constituted  the  charm 
in  the  face  of  Alice.  Perhaps  it  was  her  perfect  uncon- 
sciousness of  her  beauty,  perhaps  it  was  the  intellect 
which  beamed  from  her  eye.  Her  mother  thought  it  was 
the  holy  expression,  which  pervaded  and  animated  every 
feature.  Alice  was  very  happy.  She  had  left  school 
wiih  the  highest  honors,  and  was  rejoiced  to  he  again  in 
her  dear  home,  and  among  her  kind  friends.  She  could 
hardly  restrain  her  joy.  Sometimes,  it  bursts  out  in  a 
merry  warble,  inciting  Fanny,  her  Canary  bird,  to  stilJ 
greater  efforts  ;  then,  it  exhibits  itself,  in  a  desire  to  per- 


144  THE     HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

form  some  kind  art  of  love  to  those  around  her.  Nov.', 
she  places  a  foot-si ool  for  Uncle  Stephen,  whose  eye  fol- 
lows her  as  she  Hits  here  and  there  about  the  room  ;  next. 
runs  to  set  a  chair  for  Mr.  Stanley,  then  picks  up  a  spool 
for  her  mother,  who  rewards  her  with  a  fond  kiss,  and, 
finally,  springs  to  the  window  to  shade  the  sun  from  the 
eyes  of  Gertrude  or  Edith,  or  cheerfully  performs  some  er- 
rand to  their  room.  And  all  this  she  does  with  such  childlike 
grace  and  activity  that  it  is  a  delight  to  gaze  upon  her. 

"  Dear  Uncle  Stephen,"  said  she,  one  day,  when  the 
family  were  assembled  in  the  parlor  after  dinner ;  "  How 
glad  I  am  that  you  have  done  wearing  that  velvet  cap  and 
wig.  Do  you  know,"  she  whispered,  "  that  you  look 
very  handsome  now  that  you  have  taken  off  those  horri- 
ble old  goggles  ?  what  did  you  ever  put  them  on  for  ?  " 
she  asked,  looking  archly  in  his  face. 

"  Nonsense,  child ! "  he  replied,  catching  her  hand  as 
she  was  darting  away ;  "  to  prevent  my  seeing  too  much. 
Some  people  are  jn  danger  by  seeing  too  little ;  but  I 
was  troubled  with  too  much  light.  In  order  to  be  at  all 
comfortable,  I  was  obliged  to  shade  my  eyes." 

Alice  laughed  heartily  at  the  curious  expression  which 
passed  over  his  face. 

"  There,  take  that,  you  little  puss,"  exclaimed  Uncle 
Stephen,  giving  her  a  hearty  kiss,"  and  look  out  how  you 
come  round  here,  catechising  me,  or  1  may  have  to  get 
out  my  speaking-trumpet  again." 

The  young  girl  blushed  deeply,  as  she  saw  the  eyes 
of  the  whole  family  directed  to  them ;  but  she  replied, 
gayly:  "  Please  don't ;  I'll  try  to  be  a  good  girl;"  and 
she  withdrew  to  the  other  end  of  the  room. 


IN    DISGUISE.  145 

"  1  should  like  to  know,"  muttered  the  old  gentleman 
ro  himself, ;' when  you  ever  were  anything  else." 

I  have  as  yet  said  nothing  of  Gertrude  or  of  Clarence, 
who  had  returned  to  Queenstown,  and  taken' an  office  in 
the  village ;  though  aft  the  earnest  request  of  the  family, 
he  retained  his  old  room  at  the  Hall,  and  took  breakfast 
and  tea  with  them.  As  yet  he  had  not  much  practice, 
and  generally  spent  a  part  of  every  afternoon  with  the 
pleasant  circle.  He  treated  Gertrude  with  marked  po- 
liteness ;  but  she  missed  his  former  looks  of  love,  and 
felt  that  she  was  not  now  regarded  by  him  as  in  former 
years.  She  determined,  however,  to  win  him  back ;  for 
though  she  had  received  several  offers  of  marriage,  her 
affection  for  him  had  led  her  promptly  to  decline  them. 
Now  that  he  was  in  a  position  to  be  married, —  and  to 
be  permanently  with  them,  she  was  fully  assured  of 
success. 

In  the  visits  he  had  made  to  Lindenwood,  during  his 
stay  in  Philadelphia,  he  had  never  been  able  to  forget 
her  conduct  on  the  evening  before  his  departure.  In  all 
his  thoughts  of  her  when  absent,  one  image  alone  pre- 
sented itself,  and  that  was,  of  her  as  she  turned  coldly 
and  haughtily  to  him,  saying :  "  I  have  wasted  quite  too 
much  of  your  time,  and  of  my  own,  upon  an  occupation 
for  which  I  have  no  taste ; "  and  this,  from  one  whom  lie 
had  always  considered  lovely  in  her  truthfulness,  and 
amiable  in  her  character. 

The  weather  had  now  become  settled,  and  the  young 
people  enjoyed  many  fine  excursions,  both  walking  and 
on  horseback.  Clarence  had  purchased  a  fine  horse  for 
the  saddle,  as  he  usually  rode  back  and  forth  to  the 

ia 


146 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 


village.  Thru  Alice,  who  had  become  a  thorough  eques- 
trian, still  retained  her  beautiful  Felix,  and  Mr.  Hunting- 
ton  had  broken  in  a  spirited  animal,  kept  for  the  carnage. 
For  his  daughters,  Mr.  Stanley  procured  saddle-horse* 
from  the  stable. 

During  their  first  expedition,  Alice  accompanied  them 
She  was  arrayed  in  a  riding-dress  of  dark-green  cloth, 
fitting  neatly  to  her  form,  and  displaying  to  advantage- 
her  fine  bust  and  taper  waist;  and  a  jockey  of  green 
velvet,  with  two  plumes  of  the  same  color  tipped  with 
black.  As  she  stood  on  the  steps  of  the  portico,  holding 
the  skirts  of  her  riding-dress  in  one  hand,  she  looked  per- 
fectly bewitching.  At  least,  so  thought  Uncle  Stephen. 
She  had  been  beseeching  him  to  accompany  her  as  her 
especial  knight,  —  and  while  he  laughed  at  her  odd  fancy, 
and  shook  his  head,  he  wondered  where  the  eyes  of  the 
young  men  could  be,  that  they  did  not  seek  her  as  a  com- 
panion. She  looked  so  lovingly  at  him,  that  he  felt  he 
could  refuse  her  nothing,  and  said,  "  Well,  ivell,  child, 
some  other  lime,  I'll  see  about  it,  if  your  heart  is  set  upon 
me  for  a  companion,  but  not  to-day." 

"  But,  Uncle  Stephen,"  she  replied,  with  a  comical  ex- 
pression of  mock  gravity,  "  I  have  no  beau." 

"  Beau,  indeed !  and  what  does  such  a  child  as  yen  are. 
want  of  a  beau  ?  Let  me  see,  there  are  four  lassies,  and 
two  laddies.  Here,  Clarence,  take  care  of  this  yivmg 
miss,  who  is  bewailing  her  want  of  a  beau." 

Clarence,  who  unobserved,  had  heard  the  whole  con- 
versation, started  forward,  saying  in  a  low  voice:  "1 
shall  be  most  happy  to  resume  my  care  of  my  fornief 


IN    DISGUISE.  147 

"  Poor  Alice ! "  her  smiles  vanished  in  a  moment , 
the  color  mounted  even  to  her  brow,  as  she  feared  he 
ivould  think  her  soliciting  his  attention  ;  but  she  said, 
quickly,  "  Oh,  Uncle  Stephen,  how  could  you ! "  and 
turned  abruptly  away. 

Clarence  bit  his  lip  with  chagrin.  He  had  never  been 
able  to  resume  his  former  intimacy  with  her,  since  she 
returned  from  school.  During  the  ride  she  galloped  in 
advance  of  the  party ;  and  if  he  attempted  to  follow, 
made  an  excuse  to  ride  back  to  the  side  of  Emma. 

Mr.  Huntington  kept  close  to  Edith,  who  certainly 
never  appeared  to  better  advantage  than  when  on  horse- 
back. She  sat  like  a  queen,  and  evidently  was  aware  of 
it ;  for  she  took  unusual  pains  to  torment  her  lover  with 
her  assumed  indifference. 

Several  times,  when  Clarence  left  Gertrude  and  rode 
round  by  Alice,  she  appeared  so  really  distressed  that  he 
left  her,  determined  to  lose  no  time  in  ascertaining  the 
reason  of  her  loss  of  confidence  in  him.  Free,  frank., 
and  open  in  her  conduct  to  all,  yet  toward  her  formet 
teacher  she  exhibited  a  shyness,  and  a  disposition  to 
avoid  his  society,  totally  unlike  her  former  childish  affec- 
tion. If  she  were  singing  gayly  when  he  entered  the 
room,  her  voice  suddenly  ceased.  If  he  took  a  seat  near 
her,  she  soon  found  an  excuse  to  vacate  her  place.  At 
length,  this  change  in  her  appearance  became  so  marked 
that  the  young  lawyer  was  exceedingly  pained  by  it 
So  much  so,  that  often  while  seated  in  his  office,  with 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  his  papers,  his  thoughts,  instead  ol 
bearing  upon  the  case  .in  hand,  were  wandering  to 
Lindonwood,  and  there  trying  to  solve  a  problem  which 


148  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

was  daily  becoming  more  difficult,  and  also  more  intei 
esting  to  him.     One  day,  when  alone  with  Mrs.  Stanley 
tie  took  an  opportunity  to  converse  with  her  about  hei 
adopted  child.     He  commenced  by  asking :  "  Do  not  you 
think  Alice  mucn  changed  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  responded,  earnestly, "  I  think  she  grows 
more  lovely  every  day." 

"  But,"  continued  Clarence,  hesitating,  "  she  is  not  as 
artless  and  affectionate  as  formerly." 

"  You  surprise  me,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Stanley.  "  She  is 
open  as  the  day,  and  has  the  warmest  heart  I  ever  knew. 
See  what  an  influence  she  has  acquired  over  Uncle  Ste- 
phen. He  can  never  see  any  one  else  when  she  is 
present." 

"  Oh,"  said  Clarence,  laughing ;  "  she  is  indebted  to 
the  speaking-trumpet  for  that.  Yes,  I  believe  he  con- 
siders her  a  paragon  of  goodness." 

After  this  conversation,  however,  Mrs.  Stanley  watched 
her  daughter,  and  became  convinced  that,  for  some  cause, 
she  avoided  receiving  any  attention  from  the  young 
man. 

Two  days  after  their  first  ride,  it  was  proposed  to  visit 
a  beautiful  glen  about  two  miles  distant.  They  were  to 
start  early,  taking  a  lunch  with  them,  and  pass  several 
hours  at  the  place.  When  the  arrangements  were  com- 
pleted, Alice  turned  quietly  to  Gertrude,  and  offered  her 
the  use  of  Felix. 

"  But  what  will  you  do  ?  "  asked  Gertrude,  her  coun- 
tenance brightening  with  pleasure. 

"  I  am  not  going,"  was  the  quiet  response. 

u  Why  ?  why  ?  "  asked  many  voices. 


IN    DISGUISE.  149 

"  I  cannot  stay  to  give  all  my  reasons,"  she  answered, 
laughing,  and  blushing,  as  she  met  a  pair  of  blue  eyes 
fixed  half-reproachfully  upon  her ;  "  but  hereafter  I  will 
try  to  persuade  Uncle  Stephen  to  ride  with  me,  at  an- 
other time,  so  that  you  can  have  him  for  your  excur- 
sions." 

"  Thank  you  !  thank  you !  "  exclaimed  Gertrude,  as 
Alice  was  leaving  the  room. 

"  With  her  own  hands  the  young  girl  put  up  cold 
chicken,  sliced  ham,  with  sandwiches  and  tarts ;  then 
ran  to  her  room  to  procure  her  jockey  for  Gertrude,  who 
preferred  it  to  her  own ;  then  stood  upon  the  steps,  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stanley,  to  see  them  start,  wishing  them  a 
happy  day,  and  a  safe  return. 

Uncle  Stephen  was  not  at  all  satisfied  that  his  favorite 
should  remain  at  home ;  but  she  archly  told  him,  she 
would  compel  him  to  say  differently  before  the  day 
closed.  She  read  to  him.  sang  for  his  especial  benefit  all 
his  favorite  songs,  until  he  was  obliged  to  resort  to  his 
handkerchief  to  wipe  the  moisture  from  his  eyes.  She 
talked  to  him  of  her  school  companions,  and  her  studies, 
and,  indeed,  she  had  never  appeared  half  so  cheerful  and 
happy.  • 

After  dinner,  she  mesmerized  him  by  combing  his  thin, 
gray  hair  ;  then,  when  he  lay  back  in  his  easy-clmir,  his 
nasal  organs  giving  sure  evidence  of  the  soundness  of 
his  slumber,  and  not  till  then  did  she  retire  to  her  own 
room.  When  there,  her  over-excited  feelings  found  vent 
in  tears,  for  she  had  denied  herself  the  -pleasure  of  join- 
ing the  party,  from  a  stern  sense  of  duty,  and  she  felt 
keenly  the  disappointment.  Poor  child!  her  heart  wag 


150  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

all  in  a  tumult,  and  for  a  time  she  could  only  weep ;  but 
at  length  her  tears,  though  bitter,  brought  relief,  and  she 
began  to  look  calmly  at  her  own  situation.  For  Alice 
loved  ;  yes,  with  her  whole  heart  she  loved —  her  teacher. 
But  the  conviction  which  had  so  lately  been  forcing  itself 
upon  her  mind,  brought  no  pleasure,  but  the  keenest 
mortification  and  self-reproach.  She  laid  her  head  upon 
her  arms,  and  almost  unconsciously  her  thoughts  went 
back  to  his  arrival  at  Queenstown.  She  was  but  a  child 
then  ;  but  oh,  how  kind  he  had  been  to  her,  and  to  Louis. 
Her  tears  flowed  afresh  as  she  thought  of  her  dear  little 
companion,  to  whom  she  could  have  confided  all  her 
grief;  but  now  she  must  keep  it  locked  up  in  her  own 
breast.  Then  how  unwearied  had  he  been  in  instructing 
her,  how  interested  in  all  her  welfare.  While  at  school 
her  great  desire  was,  though  unacknowledged  even  to 
herself,  to  convince  him  that  his  pupil  had  honored  his 
instructions.  How  earnestly  she  had  counted  the  weeks, 
then  the  days,  Refore  her  return  home,  because  her 
mother  had  written  that  Clarence  was  to  be  there. 
But  oh,  how  changed  to  sorrow  and  chagrin  were  all  her 
bright  anticipations ! 

A  day  or  two  after  her  return,  she  heard  Gertrude  and 
Edith  in  earnest  conversation  about  Clarence.  "  I  ha  \re 
every  reason,"  said  Gertrude,  "  to  know  that  he  loves  me ; 
indeed,  he  has  often  told  me  so  ;  but  he  does  not  wish  it 
known  at  present,  especially  to  Uncle  Stephen  ;  so  be 
very  careful  not  to  betray  us." 

"  Oh,  I'll  remember,"  answered  Edith  ;  "  but  1  advise 
you  to  keep  Alice  out  of  his  way,  until  you're  positively 
engaged.  I  wouldn't  allow  Alfred  to  give  such  glances 


IN    DISGUISE.  !•")! 

to  another,  as  I  have  seen  Clarence  bestow  upon 
Alice." 

"  Nonsense,  Edith  !  He  considers  her  as  a  child  ;  and 
you  know  she  always  puts  herself  forward  ;  but  I  do 
wonder  what  there  is  about  her  he  considers  so  won- 
derful." 

She  could  hear  no  more.  Pressing  her  hands  tightly 
upon  her  heart,  she  quietly  left  the  room,  and  retired  to 
the  little  closet,  where  she  had  formerly  slept.  There  she 
sat,  for  hours,  almost  stupefied.  It  was  then  she  first  be- 
came aware  of  the  nature  of  her  affection  for  her  teacher ; 
else,  why  should  she  be  so  pained  at.  hearing  that  he 
had  already  declared  his  love  for  Gertrude.  When  it 
commenced  she  knew  not ;  but  she  was  crushed  beneath 
a  sense  of  shame  and  mortification  that  she,  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  nursery  woman,  should  have  bestowed  her  love, 
unsought,  upon  any  one;  but  above  all,  upon  a  man  she 
considered  superior  to  all  she  had  seen.  Yes,  in  that 
dark  hour,  she  tore  off  the  mask,  and  looked  at  herself 
without  disguise.  What  if,  for  the  sake  of  his  deceased 
wife,  Mr.  Stanley  had  treated  her  like  -a  daughter ! 
What  if  Louis  had  loved  her  like  a  sister !  What  if 
her  dear  Mrs.  Stanley  had  been  more  than  a  mother  to 
her,  and  Uncle  Stephen  her  kind  benefactor!  She  was 
no  less  the  child  of  poverty  and  dependence.  How 
dared  she  then  to  harbor  such  feelings  for  one  moment  ? 
She  bowed  her  head  upon  her  hands,  and  prayed  for 
strength  to  overcome;  and  strength  was  given  her. 
She  went  out  from  that  humble  closet  with  firm  resolves, 
with  noble  purposes,  with  full  determination  to  root  out 
every  lingering  feeling  of  affection  for  the  one  srie  had 


I'JZ  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

so  long  and  so  unconsciously  loved.  But  this  resolution 
was  not  so  easy  to  carry  into  effect.  Ev-ery  time  she 
beheld  him,  she  saw  more  in  his  character  to  esteem 
and  respect,  and  not  many  days  passed  before  she  fouiu] 
her  only  safety  was  in  avoiding  his  presence. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

"  It  was  sufficient  that  his  wants  were  known ; 
True  charity  makes  others'  wants  its  own." 

Dauborne. 

LINDENWOOD  was  about  a  mile  from  the  village  of 
Qucenstown,  and  for  nearly  half  that  distance  there 
were  no  houses  except  those  belonging  to  servants  from 
the  tTall.  The  town  contained  between  three  and  four 
thousand  inhabitants,  who  were  divided  into  four  reli- 
gious denominations  —  the  Episcopal,  (to  which  Mr. 
Stanley's  family  belonged,)  the  Orthodox,  the  Methodist, 
and  the  Universalist.  An  academy  was  located  there, 
which,  during  the  summer  season,  was  quite  full,  as  the 
public  schools  were  in  session  but  half  the  year.  It  was 
this  academy  the  young  ladies  from  Lindenwood  had 

attended  until  they  went  to  T to  give  a  finish  to 

their  education. 

Queenstown  was  considered  a  very  desirable  place  for 
a  residence,  not  only  on  account  of  the  beauty  of  its 
location,  the  facilities  afforded  by  the  boat  and  cars  for 
reaching  the  neighboring  city,  and  the  quiet,  peaceable 
character  it  had  acquired,  but  also  from  the  number  of 
educated,  refined  families  who  had  chosen  it  as  their 
home.  Here  it  was  that  young  Sydney  had  taken  an 
office  as  attorney,  and  here  it  was  the  scenes  of  the 
pre.-rnt  chapter  transpired. 

For  several  days  the  weather  had  been  stormy,  so  that 

153 


154  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

the  party  of  young  people  at  Lindenwood  had  been 
confined  within  doors,  but  on  Tuesday  morning  the  sun 
rose  in  cloudless  splendor,  flinging  his  bright  rays  on 
every  side.  After  breakfast  an  excursion  was  planned 
for  the  afternoon,  when  Clarence  could  join  them.  They 
were  merrily  discussing  it,  and  anticipating  its  pleasures, 
when  the  door  opened,  and  Alice  entered,  equipped  for  a 
ride. 

"  So  soon  ready  ?  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Stephen,  and  he 
let  his  paper  fall  to  the  floor  as  he  started  in  haste  to 
meet  her. 

"  Why,  Alice,  where  are  you  going  ?  "  inquired  half  a 
dozen  voices ;  but  she  only  smiled  and  shook  her  head, 
while  the  old  gentleman  hurried  from  the  room  to  pre- 
pare to  accompany  her.  Her  neatly  fitting  boddice  dis- 
played to  great  advantage  her  beautifully  rounded  form, 
and  as  she  stood,  gracefully  holding  up  her  long  skirt, 
exposed  to  view  the  toe  of  a  tiny  gaiter  matching  in 
color  her  dress.  The  surprise  she  had  given  them,  and 
the  interest  awakened  as  to  the  cause  of  her  early  start, 
had  lent  a  deeper  tint  to  her  fair  complexion,  while  the 
dimples  were  playing  about  her  mouth  as  she  tried  to 
evade  their  inquiries. 

The  young  attorney  gazed  earnestly  upon  her,  and 
thought  his  eyes  had  never  rested  upon  a  lovelier  object ; 
but  he  suddenly  caught  a  glimpse  of  Gertrude,  who 
stood  behind  him,  and  her  countenance  was  so  full  of 
bitterness  that  poor  Alice  started  from  her  in  terror. 

At  that  moment  Uncle  Stephen  entered,  grumbling, 
"  I'm  making  a  fool  of  myself.  I've  not  mounted  a 
horse  for  twenty  years.  There'll  be  amusement  enough 


IN   DISGUISE. 


for  the  whole  town,  to  see  the  old  codger  escorting  a 
fair  lady  through  the  main  streets.  I  dare  say  she'll 
make  me  parade  myself  everywhere." 

He  stopped  short  on  seeing  that  Alice  did  not,  as 
usual,  make  any  reply  to  his  bantering,  and  was  rea.lv 
distressed,  as  they  stood  waiting  at  the  door  for  the 
horses,  to  see  that  she  silently  wiped  a  tear  from  her  eye. 
"  There,  child,"  he  commenced,  "  I'll  take  it  all  back,  old 
barbarian  as  I  am,"  when  Clarence,  who  was  standing 
by  his  side,  whispered,  "  Take  no  notice  now.  It  is 
nothing  you  have  said,"  when  his  thoughts  turned  in 
another  direction,  and  he  replied,  "  If  you've  worried 
her,  I'L  --  " 

There  is  no  knowing  what  he  would  have  said,  for 
Alice  sprang  down  the  steps,  and,  before  Clarence  could 
reach  her,  placed  her  foot  in  the  outstretched  hand  of 
the  hostler,  and  sprang  lightly  to  her  seat.  The  young 
man,  much  annoyed,  turned  to  his  uncle,  who  was 
really  making  a  great  effort  in  order  to  oblige  his  little 
friend.  Three  times  the  animal  was  led  to  the  block, 
and  the  awkward  attempt  of  the  rider  caused  him  to 
shy  off,  so  that  it  was  necessary  to  turn  him,  and  lead 
him  up  again.  "  I  shall  give  it  up  next  time,"  he  ex- 
claimed, petulantly,  and  you  may  take  my  place,  boy." 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !  "  said  Alice,  earnestly.  The  instant  she 
had  spoken,  the  color  mounted  to  her  very  brow,  and,  as 
she  met  the  expression  of  sad  reproach  in  Clarence,  she 
added,  quickly,  "  I  will  dismount;  I  will  give  no  one  the 
trouble  to  accompany  me  ;  I  do  not  care  to  go  now." 

But  this  time  Uncle  Stephen  had  been  successful,  and 
they  started  off,  when  Clarence  reluctantly  returned  to 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

the  parlor,  and  said  that  he  might  be  prevented  from 
coining  home  in  season  to  join  them,  but  he  hoped  his 
absence  would  not  prevent  their  going,  as  Mr.  Hunting 
ton  was  with  them.  Before  he  arrived  at  his  office,  lie 
made  a  determination  to  seek  an  explanation  from  Alice 
herself  of  her  evident  avoidance  of  him.  He  began  to 
suspect  that  she  was  not  treated  with  kindness  by  every 
member  of  the  family. 

In  the  meantime,  the  subject  of  his  thoughts  was 
trying  to  forget  that  anything  unpleasant  had  occurred. 
and  to  render  herself  as  agreeable  as  possible  to  her  kind 
benefactor,  who  had  taken  so  much  pains  to  give  her 
pleasure.  After  a  cheerful  conversation,  as  they  rode 
slowly  on,  she  told  him  she  thought  it  was  quite  time 
she  was  doing  something  for  her  own  support.  "  If  I 
have  kind  friends,"  she  continued,  "  that  is  no  reason 
why  I  should  be  a  burden  to  them." 

"  Humph  !  "  replied  Uncle  Stephen,  "  all  stuff  and 
nonsense"!  Pray,  what  can  you  do  ?  Teach  an  acad- 
emy, hey  ?  " 

Alice  was  too  much  accustomed  to  his  manner  to  feel 
at  all  discouraged  by  his  remark ;  so*  she  pleasantly  re- 
plied, "I  can  do  some  things  better  than  anybody  in 
the  world,  yourself  being  judge." 

«  What,  pray  ?  " 

"  Why,  combing  your  hair,  for  instance,  or  reading 
you  to  sleep." 

Her  .companion  stopped  his  horse  in  his  eagerness  to 
reply.  "  Well,  child,  I  have  a  plan,  so  set  your  heart  at 
rest.  I'll  employ  you  to  wait  upon  me,  and  humor  all 
my  whims,  which  you  have  done  for  years  without  pay. 


I\    DISGUISE.  l')7 

Now,  I'll  pay  you  well,  so  that  you'll  have  no  desire  to 
run  around  seeking  other  service." 

Whatever  Alice  thought  of  this  proposal,  she  had  no 
4.ime  to  reply,  for  just  then  her  attention  was  called  to  a 
child  apparently  about  three  or  four  years  of  age.  who 
was  running  along  on  the  sidewalk,  crying  bitterly.  The 
equestrians  stopped  then;  horses,  and  inquired  the  cause 
of  her  sorrow.  At  first  the  child  was  frightened,  and 
did  not  answer ;  but  Alice  said,  tenderly,  "  Little  girl, 
can't  you  tell  me  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  My  ma  is  sick,"  at  length  she  sobbed  out. 

"  What  is  your  name,  my  dear?  " 

"  Lizzie  Gates." 

"  And  where  does  your  mother  live  ?  " 

"  There,"  pointing  to  a  small  house  a  few  rods  distant 

"  Well,  run  on,  and  I  will  go  with  you,  and  see  what 
I  can  do  for  her.  Will  you  stop  for  me  ?  "  she  added, 
turning  to  Uncle  Stephen,  "  or  will  you  ride  on,  and  call 
for  me  when  you  return  ?  " 

'k  Never  mind  me,  child.  I'll  wait  here,  but  I  don't  dare 
lo  get  off,  for  fear  I  never  could  mount  again." 

When  the  young  girl  entered  the  humble  abode,  she 
saw  a  woman  sitting  in  a  low  chair,  with  a  babe  across 
her  lap,  while  her  head  was  resting  on  her  arms,  that  lay 
upon  the  table.  Lizzie  pulled  her  mother's  dress  to  call 
her  attention,  but  she  only  moaned  in  reply,  until  the 
child  said,  "  Ma,  see  the  lady."  The  poor  woman  raised 
her  head,  and  displayed  a  countenance  pale  as  death, 
except  her  eyes,  which  were  swollen  and  red  with  weeping. 

'•  Your  little  girl   told  me  you  were   ill,"  said   Alice, 
advancing  toward  her.     "  Can  I  assist  you  ?  " 
14 


158  THE    HOUSEHOLD    AXGKL 

Mrs.  Gates  burst  into  tears.  "  No,  no  !  "  she  sobbed 
-.ut;  "  nothing  can  do  me  any  good." 

The  tone  was  so  despairing  and  heart-broken  that  the 
young  girl  was  deeply  moved.  She  sat  down  on  a  low 
stool  near  her,  and,  taking  Lizzie  upon  her  lap,  said, 
kindly,  "  You  must  try  to  feel  comforted  for  the  sake  of 
1  liis  dear  little  girl ;  and  what  will  the  baby  do  if  you 
give  way  to  your  grief?"  She  had  touched  the  right 
chord  —  a  mother's  love.  Perhaps  it  was  the  only  one 
which  would  at  this  time  have  vibrated  to  the  touch. 
The  tears  of  the  poor  woman  still  flowed,  but  she  be- 
came more  composed,  and  soon  was  able  to  relate, 
though  with  much  shame,  the  cause  of  her  trouble.  Her 
husband,  who  was  a  blacksmith,  had  a  profitable  busi- 
ness, and  had  supported  his  family  well,  until  the  owner 
of  the  public  house,  with  a  company  of  others,  built  a 
bowling  saloon.  He  was  enticed  there  to  see  them  play; 
then  he  himself  played,  until  he  spent  every  evening  in 
gambling.  At  length  he  gave  up  business  entirely,  and 
passed  his  time  lounging  about  the  hotel.  He  had 
plenty  of  money,  but  she  did  not  know  how  he  obtained 
it.  The  night  before,  there  had  been  a  robbery  com- 
mitted in  the  village,  and,  as  soon  as  it  was  light,  her 
husband  was  apprehended,  and  placed  in  confinement  to 
await  his  trial.  "  But  he  never  did  that,"  she  added, 
vehemently;  "  he  never  would  commit  such  a  crime,  to 
bring  disgrace  on  himself  and  me.  But  the  others  will 
try  to  prove  it  upon  him,  and  he'll  be  carried  to  prison  ; 
and  then  what  will  become  of  us  ?  "  and  she  pressed 
her  babe  convulsively  to  her  breast. 

"  When  is  he  to  be  tried  ?  "  asked  Alice. 


IN    DISC  UISL.  159 

"  They  said  they  were  taking  him  to  a  magistrate  at 
once." 

"  You  say  the  robbery  was  last  night;  was  your  hus- 
band at  home  through  the  night  ?  " 

The  poor  woman  cast  down  her  eyes  in  great  confu- 
sion, as  she  faltered  out,  "  He  came  home  about  mid- 
night." 

After  a  short  pause,  Alice  arose  to  go,  saying,  "  Mr. 
Stanley,  with  whom  I  live,  is  a  magistrate,  and  he  may 
be  the  one  who  will  try  him.  At  any  rate,  I  think  I  can 
promise,  if  his  case  is  not  already  decided,  that  he  will 
have  jusiice  done  him  in  his  trial.  I  have  a  dear  friend, 
who  is  a  lawyer,  and  I  will  ask  him  to  examine  the  case. 
If  your  husband  is  innocent,  he  shall  be  befriended." 

Mrs.  Gates  leaned  forward  with  parted  lips,  eager  to 
catch  every  word  of  her  young  comforter.  It  would 
have  been  a  beautiful  scene  for  a  painter.  There  was 
the  poor  young  wife,  with  her  babes  clinging  to  her  side, 
eagerly  gazing  into  the  bright  face  of  the  young  lady, 
who  in  cheerful  tones  was  endeavoring  to  inspire  her 
with  hope  and  trust  for  the  future.  "  I  will  see  you 
again  to-morrow,"  she  added,  going  towards  the  door. 
In  the  meantime,  have  you  sufficient  for  yourself  and 
children  ?  " 

"Oh,  ye.s,  miss!  quite  enough;  and  who  knows  but 
Justin  will  be  cleared,  and  return  to  his  work,  and  then 
how  happy  we  shall  be  !  "  She  caught  up  her  babe  to 
hide  her  tears  of  joy  at  the  thought. 

"My  iiood  woman,"  said  Alice,  meekly,  "you  must 
pray  that  Clod  \\ill  bring  good  out  of  this  trial.  He  is 
able  to  convert  this  affliction  into  a  great  blessing.  It 


160  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

may  be  the  means  of  showing  your  husband  the  clanger 
of  evil  companions,  so  that  he  will  shun  them  in  future.' 

"  Oh,  miss !  you  talk  so  much  like  my  dear  mother ! 
She  taught  me  to  pray ;  but,  since  I  was  married,  I 
have  had  so  much  to  take  up  my  time,  I  have  forgotten 
all  about,  her  instructions.  After  Justin  was  carried  off, 
I  did  try  to  ask  God  to  let  his  innocence  be  known ;  but 
I  gave  it  up.  I  couldn't  expect  he'd  hear  me  when  I've 
been  so  forgetful  of  my  duty  to  him." 

Alice  sprang  forward,  and  caught  her  hand,  saying, 
"  Do  not  give  up  praying.  Ask  him  to  forgive  all  your 
sins  for  Christ's  sake,  and  to  make  your  husband  a  good 
Christian.  Will  you  do  this  ?  " 

The  breast  of  the  woman  heaved  convulsively,  and 
she  bowed  her  head  in  token  of  assent  as  the  young  girl 
paused. 

"  Good  bye,  then  ;  I  hope  to  bring  you  good  news  to- 
morrow. Good  bye,  Lizzie  ;  I  will  come  again  soon." 

As  she  started  quickly  toward  the  door,  all  at  once 
she  remembered  that  Uncle  Stephen  was  waiting  for 
her ;  but,  when  she  stepped  into  the  entry,  to  her  sur- 
prise she  saw  him  sitting  upon  a  low  stair,  and  exhib- 
iting traces  of  deep  emotion.  Making  a  quick  sign  for 
her  to  keep  silent,  he  thrust  a  well-filled  purse  into  her 
hand,  at  the  same  time  pointing  to  the  room  she  had  left. 
But  Alice  shook  her  head  as  she  whispered,  "  Another 
time,"  and  they  went  out  quietly  together.  Approaching 
the  fence  where  she  had  tied  her  horse,  Alice  was  won- 
dering how  she  should  contrive  a  step  for  Uncle  Stephen, 
when  a  laboring  man  came  by,  and  offered  his  assist ance, 
with  which  the  old  gentleman  was  once  more  safely 


IN    DISGUISE.  161 

seated  upon  his  horse.  But  Alice  secretly  determined 
the  next  time  she  invited  him  to  accompany  her,  to  take 
some  conveyance  which  would  not  subject  him  to  such 
inconvenience.  She  would  have  preferred  returning  im- 
mediately home  in  order  to  consult  Mr.  Stanley  about 
the  trial ;  but,  as  her  companion  did  not  propose  it,  with 
the  self-denial  which  had  become  a  part  of  her  nature, 
she  rode  on  for  nearly  a  mile.  On  their  return  they  saw 
Clarence  coming  out  of  a  book  store,  and,  forgetting 
everything  else  in  her  joy  at  meeting  him  thus  early,  she 
eagerly  beckoned  him  to  her  side.  "  Oh,  Clarence  !  "  she 
exclaimed,  joyfully  ;  "  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you.  We  have 
found  a  poor  woman  in  great  distress,  and  I  promised 
her  that  you  would  interest  yourself  for  her."  She  then 
proceeded  to  give  a  brief  account  of  Mrs.  Gates  and  her 
family,  to  which  there  was  no  want  of  pleased  attention 
on  the  part  of  the  lawyer.  He  promised  to  go  directly 
and  see  the  woman,  and  learn  if  there  were  any  facts  to 
throw  light  on  the  case. 

"  I  knew  you  would  ! "  exclaimed  Alice,  with  a  glowing 
countenance. 

Almost  unconsciously  Clarence  stood  watching  them 
until  they  were  out  of  sight,  when  he  turned  and  walked 
quickly  to  Mrs.  Gates's.  Her  tone  and  manner  had  car- 
ried him  back  to  the  time  when  she  used  to  run  to  him 
with  a  story  of  distress,  as  if  she  felt  sure  he  would  re« 
lieve  them  if  it  was  in  his  power.  The  words,  "  I  knew 
you  would,"  so  frankly  uttered,  rang  in  his  ears,  caused  a 
bright  smile  to  play  around  his  mouth,  and  rendered  his 
step  more  elastic.  He  determined  to  do  all  he  could  foi 
14* 


162  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

the  release  of  the  man,  if,  as  she  supposed,  he  had  been 
made  the  tool  of  his  more  depraved  companions. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  narrate  his  interview  with  Mrs. 
Gates,  or  the  one  with  her  husband  that  followed.  In 
the  latter  he  became  convinced  of  the  innocence  of  Mr 
Gates  in  the  robbery,  though  the  young  man  confessed, 
with  shame,  the  wicked  course  of  idleness  and  sin  he 
had  pursued  for  a  few  months.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that 
when  he  returned  at  a  late  hour  for  tea,  he  carried  Alice 
the  report  of  Gates's  release,  and  the  conviction  of  two 
of  his  associates.  She  listened  with  tears  as  he  recounted 
the  joy  of  the  young  wife  at  the  restoration  of  her  hus- 
band, which  Clarence  assured  her  she  ascribed  entirely  to 
the  influence  of  the  kind  lady  who  called  to  see  her.  He 
did  not,  however,  repeat  what  Mrs.  Gates  had  said  of  her 
visitor,  whom  she  considered  an  angel  sent  from  heaven 
to  comfort  her  in  her  distress ;  nor  how  a  simple  question 
she  had  asked  concerning  the  relation  existing  between 
himself  and  her,  had  caused  his  heart  to  beat  with  sunny 
hope.  He  was  too  happy  in  her  returned  confidence  to 
think  of  the  past ;  and  until  the  arrival  of  the  party  of 
equestrians,  an  hour  or  two  later,  he  gave  himself  up  to 
the  enjoyment  of  the  present  hour.  Alice  had  never  ap- 
peared more  cheerful ;  her  clear  eyes  shone  with  a  pure 
light,  and  a  beaming  smile  played  around  her  small 
mouth. 

Uncle  Stephen  gayly  described  his  own  awkwardness  in 
dismounting  at  Mrs.  Gates's  door,  and  the  merry  laugh 
he  had  occasioned  a  group  of  boys  who  were  playing 
near.  "  In  trulh,"  he  added,  Alice  was  gone  so  long,  I 
Was  afraid  some  evil  had  befallen  her,  esepcially  as  she 


IX    DISGUISE  163 

had  just  been  imparting  to  me  her  wild  scheme  of  setting 
up  for  herself." 

Alice  tried  to  cover  his  mouth,  but  he  continued,  "  No, 
ohild,  you  deserve  to  be  punished  for  your  naughty 
thoughts.  She  wants  to  be  more  independent,  and  be 
able  to  act  according  to  her  own  fancies  ;  but  I  soon  put 
a  stop  to  her  rebellion,  and  I've  taken  her  into  my  ser- 
vice. She  is  to  do  just  as  I  tell  her,  and  I'm  to  —  —  well, 
no  matter  what  I'm  to  do ;  so  look  out  and  not  inter- 
fere with  her,"  glancing  toward  u'larence,  who  appeared 
half  amused  and  half  annoyed.  "  I  wont  have  her  wor- 
ried. But  seriously,  child,  what  could  put  such  thoughts 
into  your  head  ?  Aren't  you  happy  here  ?  What  do  you 
think  I  should  do  without  somebody  to  scold,  or  to  bring 
me  to  reason  when  I'm  out  of  humor  ?  " 

For  a  moment  the  poor  girl  appeared  much  embar- 
rassed ;  but  then,  thinking  that  the  present  might  be  the 
most  favorable  time  for  mentioning  her  plan,  she  said, 
endeavoring  to  speak  calmly,  "  It  is  not  a  new  thought 
with  me.  Indeed,  I  can  hardly  remember  when  it  first 
occurred  to  me  ;  but  by  your  kindness,  my  dear  friends, 
I  have  received  a  thorough  education,  and  can  therefore 
not  only  relieve  myself  from  being  dependent  upon  your 
bounty,  but  hope  I  may  prove  myself  useful  in  some 
humble  situation.  If  my  presence  were  necessary  to  my 
poor  mother,  I  should  feel  it  my  duty  to  remain  with  her; 
but  as  it  is  not,  I  have  long  thought  I  ought  to  make 
some  use  of  the  education  furnished  me  by  your  kind- 
ness." 

For  one  moment  no  one  spoke.  Astonishment  at  the 
words  of  the  young  girl  kept  them  silent.  They  had 


164  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

been  so  much  in  the  habit  of  considering  her  as  a  child 
that  at  was  difficult  to  realize  that  she  had  ever  indulged 
a  thought  of  acting  for  herself.  Clarence  started  forward 
eagerly,  but  Mrs.  Stanley  drew  the  child  of  her  adoption 
closer  to  her  heart,  while  her  husband,  who  was  much 
affected,  said.  "  Alice,  when  your  little  companion,  Louis, 
was  dying,  1  promised  him  that  I  would  be  a  father  to 
you,  and  give  you  a  home ;  you  would  not  wish  me  to  vio- 
late that  pledge." 

His  manner  was  so  solemn  that  she  could  only  reply 
by  her  tears,  as  she  caught  his  hand  and  pressed  it  to  he) 
lips. 

Uncle  Stephen  arose  and  walked  hastily  from  the 
room,  when  Mr.  Stanley  continued,  "  My  dear  child,  let 
me  hear  no  more  of  this.  Your  mother,"  glancing  at  his 
wife,  "  cannot  spare  you.  There  is  only  one  condition," 
he  added,  pleasantly,  "  in  which  I  shall  give  my  consent 
to  your  leaving  us,  and  that  is  when  a  husband  claims 
you." 

Poor  girl!  a  conscious  fear  suffused  her  cheeks  and 
brow  with  a  burning  blush,  as  she  replied  in  a  low  voice, 
"  That  time  will  never  come." 

The  sound  of  the  returning  party  put  a  sudden  termi- 
nation to  the  conversation  ;  but  not  before  Clarence  had 
taken  her  hand,  saying,  "  Dear  Alice,  remember  wher- 
ever you  go,  and  whatever  you  do,  you  have  one  firm 
friend." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  replied,  without  raising  her  eyes ; 
"  I  love  to  think  it  is  so." 

The  tall  and  queenly  Edith  entered  first,  having,  in  the 
company  of  her  admirer,  passed  a  delightful  afternoon 


IN    DISGUISE.  165 

Her  sisters  soon  followed,  with  Mr.  Huntington.  Ger- 
trude was  weary  and  out  of  spirits,  and  exceedingly 
annoyed  to  find  Clarence  at  home  with  Alice.  During 
the  half  hour  which  followed,  she  was  so  ill-humored,  and 
spoke  so  sharply  to  the  young  girl,  who  had  run  to  assist 
in  bringing  the  supper  upon  the  table,  that  even  her 
father  noticed  it,  and  when  Alice  had  left  the  room,  said 
reprovingly,  "  My  daughter,  I  cannot  allow  you  to  speak 
so  unkindly  to  your  sister." 

"  What  sister  ?  "  asked  Gertrude,  opening,  to  their  ful 
lest  extent,  her  large  eyes. 

"  Alice ;  and  I  wish  to  have  her  treated,  in  every  re- 
spect, as  if  she  were  really  such." 

An  expression  of  scorn  distorted  her  beautiful  features, 
as  she  replied,  "  I  thought  my  father  had  too  much  pride 
to  adopt  the  child  of  a  servant.  However,  it  is  nothing 
to  me  " 

"  I  think,"  suggested  Edith,  proudly  drawing  herself 
up,  "  it  ought  not  to  be  expected  of  us  to  treat  her 
as  we  do  each  other.  I'm  sure  I  wish  her  well,  only  if  I 
were  in  her  situation,  I  would  prefer  to  live  independ- 
ently, even  in  the  capacity  of  cook  or  chambermaid." 

It  was  well  for  the  haughty  girls  that  Uncle  Stephen 
was  not  present,  else  they  might  have  received  a  sharp 
reproof  from  him. 

The  bitter  words  of  Gertrude  had  caused  the  scales  to 
fall  from  the  eyes  of  youngs  Sydney,  who  wondered  how 
he  could  ever  have  been  so  blinded  ;  and  emotions  of 
gratitude  sprang  up  in  his  breast  that  he  had  not  bound 
himself  to  her  forever.  When  Alice  came  to  the  door 
and  gayly  informed  them  supper  was  ready,  he  hastily 


166  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

[eft  the  room  in  search  of  his  guardian,  and  found  him 
vigorously  walking  back  and  forth,  through  the  suite  of 
rooms  occupied  by  them.  After  sitting  for  a  few  mo- 
ments with  his  head  resting  on  his  hand,  and  finding  hia 
companion  took  no  notice  of  him,  Mr.  Sydney  arose,  and 
passing  the  hand  of  his  kind  friend  through  his  arm, 
joined  him  in  his  walk. 

"  I  believe  the  child  does  it  on  purpose  to  torment  me," 
soliloquized  the  old  gentleman.  "  Wish  I  were  twenty 
years  younger,  I'd  give  her  a  home  in  good  earnest,  and 
a  husband,  too  !  " 

"  Who  are  you  complaining  of?  "  asked  Clarence. 

"  Why,  of  Alice,  and  all  of  you.  I  don't  see  where 
your  eyes  are.  So  stupid  of  you  not  to  see  what's  for 
your  own  good." 

"  I  am  glad  to  assure  you,"  replied  the  young  man, 
archly,  though  it  must  be  confessed  with  a  heightened 
color,  "  that  at  length  we  view  one  subject  alike  ;  "  and 
he  uttered  a  few  words  in  the  ear  of  his  guardian,  which 
operated  like  magic.  He  caught  Clarence  by  the  shoul- 
ders, and,  holding  him  at  arms'  length,  gazed  earnestly 
in  his  face.  Then  assured  that  he  had  heard  correctly, 
he  started  suddenly  forward,  and  bestowed  his  approba- 
tion in  the  shape  of  a  hearty  kiss,  after  which  he  sat 
down  and  began  to  laugh  and  cry  at  the  same  moment. 
"  I  declare,"  he  sobbed,  wiping  his  eyes,  "  it  makes  me 
young  again.  There,  go  and  bring  her  here ;  I  want  to 
give  the  child  my  blessing." 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  exclaimed  the  young  man  ;  u  I  have  never 
given  her  any  intimation  of  the  state  of  my  affections.  I 
wish  I  were  as  certain  of  obtaining  her  consent  as  I  was 


IN    DISGUISE.  107 

of  obtaining  yours."  He  then  spoke  of  the  reserve  which 
she  had  of  late  manifested  toward  him,  and  the  difficulty 
he  found  in  speaking  with  her,  except  in  the  presence  of 
Ihe  family. 

"  Now  hear  me  !  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Stephen,  bringing 
his  fist  with  great  emphasis  down  upon  his  knee.  "  It's 
all  the  work  of  that  artful  Gertrude.  Oh !  1  see  it  all. 
There  is  no  end  of  her  hints  about  dependants  thrusting 
themselves  forward,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  No  won- 
der they  make  her  shy.  Well,  manage  it  your  own  way ; 
but  mind,  now,  if  she  wont  have  you,  she's  got.  to  take 
me,  that's  settled.  I  wont  be  bothered  with  the  little 
iade's  fancies  about  going  off  to  be  a  governess." 

Entirely  unconscious  that  subjects  so  nearly  relating 
to  herself  were  discussed  within  a  few  feet  of  her  own 
room,  Alice  retired  early.  Her  thoughts  were  all  in 
confusion,  and  she  longed  to  be  alone,  to  commune  with 
her  own  heart.  The  question  of  her  leaving  Lindenwood 
was  settled,  and  she  was  troubled  and  vexed  at  herself 
for  being  pleased  that  duty  called  her  to  stay ;  for  she 
could  but  acknowledge  that  it  would  be  ungrateful  and 
wrong  for  her  to  insist  upon  a  line  of  action  which  her 
friends  disapproved  —  friends  whose  care  and  affection 
entitled  them  to  the  greatest  confidence.  "  And  yet,"  she 
repeated  to  herself,  "  if  they  knew  all,  they  would  be  the 
very  ones  to  advise  my  removal;  but  as  it  is,  [  must 
struggle  alone." 

Her  thoughts  gradually  grew  more  indistinct,  and  she 
fell  asleep.  In  her  dreams  she  again  visited  the  young 
wife,  accompanied  her  to  the  prison  to  see  her  husband, 
when  to  her  intense  surprise  she  found  the  prisoner  waa 


L68  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

Clarence.  His  deep  blue  eyes  seemed  to  gaze  earnestly 
into  hers,  as  he  implored  her  to  procure  his  release ;  and 
when  she  promised  to  do  this,  his  ardent  expressions  of 
gnititude  as  he  clasped  tightly  her  hand,  caused  hei 
heart  to  beat  wildly. 


CHAPTER     XIV. 

"  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." —  Christ. 

THE  day  following  the  events  of  the  preceding  chap- 
ter. Mr.  Huntington  was  to  return  to  college. 

Soon  after  Clarence  had  left,  for  his  office  in  the  village, 
A-lice  knocked  at  the  door  of  Uncle  Stephen's  parlor,  to 
see  whether  he  were  ready  to  accompany  her  to  the  house 
of  Mrs.  Gates.  She  started  back  on  seeing  that  he  was 
not  alone.  The  old  gentleman  put  his  purse  Jnto  her 
hand,  as  he  said,  "  I  cannot  go  with  you  this  morning.  I 
entrust  this  to  you.  Do  not  fail  to  call  upon  me  for 
more,  if  you  need  it.  Now  is  the  time  to  make  a  strong 
impression  upon  the  man.  If  needful,  he  must  be  set 
up  in  business,  and  encouraged  to  return  to  good  habits." 

"  Good  bye,  Mr.  Huntington,"  said  Alice,  presenting 
her  hand.  "  I  suppose  you  will  leave  before  I  return." 

"  Good  bye,  Miss  Alice,"  he  replied.  "  I  wish  you 
much  success  with  your  proteges." 

She  had  intended  proposing  to  ride  in  the  carriage,  as 
she  knew  that  would  be  more  pleasing  to  him  ;  but  now 
(hat  she  was  going  alone,  she  preferred  riding  Felix,  so 
she  rang  the  bell  for  the  servant  to  bring  round  the  horse, 
gayly  bade  Mrs.  Stanley  good  morning,  and  soon  was  on 
her  way  to  the  village.  Upon  knocking  at  the  door  she 
was  rather  surprised  to  find  no  sign  of  life  about  the 
premises,  and  stepped  hack  to  see  if  she  had  not  mis- 

15  169 


L70  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

taken  the  house.  No,  there  was  the  very  stair  where 
Uncle  Stephen  had  sat.  She  knocked  again,  and  louder 
rhan  before  ;  and  soon  Mrs.  Gates  made  her  appearance, 
with  her  babe  in  her  arms.  An  expression  of  great 
pleasure  brightened  her  countenance,  but  this  was  quickly 
succeeded  by  tears.  "  Justin  is  very  sick,"  she  whis- 
pered, "  very  sick,  ma'am.  He  don't  know  me  or  the 
children.  The  Doctor  says  it's  the  nervous  fever,  pro- 
duced by  the  excitement  of  yesterday.  Oh!  it  would 
make  your  heart  ache  to  hear  him  talk.  He  has  con- 
fessed all  his  sins  over  and  over  again;  and  when  he 
came  home,  he  told  me  he  meant  to  be  a  different 
man  from  what  he  has  ever  been.  When  I  repeated 
what  you  said,  he  did  not  answer  for  some  time,  and 
then  he  sighed  and  said,  '  Maria,  if  I'd  lived  as  my 
mother  taught  me,  this  would  never  have  happened. 
We  both  resolved,  last  night,  to  try  to  be  good,  and  to 
teach  our  children  as  we  were  taught,  out  of  the  Bible. 
But  now  he  may  never  get  well,'" — and  the  poor  woman 
put  her  apron  to  her  face  to  hide  the  tears  which  were 
streaming  down  her  cheeks. 

Alice  quietly  took  the  child  from  her  arms,  as  she 
asked,  "  Have  you  no  one  to  assist  you  in  taking  cart 
of  him?" 

Mrs.  Gates  shook  her  head. 

"  Do  you  know  of  any  one  who  would  come  if  she 
were  well  paid  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes!  a  woman  who  took  care  of  me  when  I  was 
Rick." 

"  Where  does  she  live  ?  " 


IN    DISGUISE.  17J 

•'  Only  a  short  distance  in  the  next  street.  Lix/ie  had 
been  to  her  house  yesterday,  when  you  met  her." 

"  Well,  if  Lizzie  will  show  me  the  way  f  will  get  her 
if  possible,  to  come  here  at  once." 

"  I'm  sure  I  can't  see  why  you're  so  kind  to  me ;  but 
I'm  very  grateful,  though  it  an't  my  way  to  say  so  much 
about  it  as  some  do." 

"  No  thanks,  my  good  woman,  are  due  to  me  ;  I  have 
a  kind  friend  who  delights  to  be  of  service  to  the  needy, 
and  it  is  by  his  wish  that  I  attend  to  your  wants.  But 
where  is  Lizzie  ?  " 

Mrs.  Gates  went  to  the  back  door  and  led  in  the  child, 
who  was  playing  in  the  yard.  Having  been,  washed  and 
attired  in  a  clean  apron,  the  little  girl  walked  by  the  side 
of  the  horse,  as  the  long  dress  of  Alice  unfitted  her 
for  walking  in  the  street.  She  found  the  nurse  to  be  a 
motherly  appearing  woman,  rather  more  than  fifty  years 
of  age.  She  soon  made  known  her  errand,  and  was 
pleased  to  find  her  willing  to  go  without  delay.  Alice 
then  inquired  whether  they  had  a  good  physician,  and 
having  ascertained  that  it  was  her  old  friend,  Dr.  Jenks, 
she  immediately  determined  to  call  upon  him.  She 
therefore  paid  Mrs.  Green  a  week's  wages,  together  with 
a  sum  of  money  for  the  immediate  necessities  of  the 
family,  and  leaving  Lizzie  to  return  home  with  ihe  nui>e, 
jumped  into  her  saddle,  and  rode  to  the  house  of  Dr 
Jenks.  She  was  fortunate  in  finding  him,  for  he  drove 
up  in  his  narrow  buggy  just  as  she  approached. 

"  Good  morning,  Miss  Alice,"  said  he,  gayly,  "  is  it 
I,  you  want  ?  Any  body  sick  at  the  Hall  ?  Easy  enough 
to  see  you're  not  to  be  rny  patient  to-day.  Conue,jucnp 


172  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

off',  and  give  me  a  kiss  from  those  red  lips.  What,  re- 
fuse me  ?  Why,  child,  I  was  the  first  friend  you  evei 
had." 

In  the  meantime  Alice  dismounted,  and  followed  the 
kind-hearted  man  into  the  sitting-room.  He  was  a 
valued  friend,  as  well  as  physician  of  Mr.  Stanley's 
family.  Alice,  he  had  always  associated  with  his  little 
pet,  Louis,  and  loved  her  for  his  sake  as  well  as  for  her 
own.  After  shaking  hands  with  Mrs.  Jenks,  the  young 
girl  at  once  made  known  her  errand,  and  requested  the 
Doctor  to  continue  his  attendance  upon  Mr.  Gates, 
archly  holding  up  her  purse  to  intimate  that  she  was  the 
one  to  whom  he  was  to  look  for  his  pay. 

"  Well,  that's  cool,  I  must  say,  to  offer  me  a  bribe  if 
I'll  give  up  my  own  patients.  Where  did  you  get  so 
much  money,  that  you  are  throwing  it  away  in  that 
style  ?  " 

"  It's  Uncle  Stephen's,"  replied  Alice,  laughing. 

"  Won't  you  tell  Uncle  Stephen  to  attend  to  his  own 
business,  and  I'll  mind  mine.  Mr.  Gates  is  my  patient, 
and  I  shan't  give  him  up  to  please  any  person  ; "  and  the 
kind  man  had  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye  that  told  every- 
body that  he  had  a  large  and  warm  heart  beating  under- 
neath his  elaborately  frilled  shirt.  "  Seriously,  child,"  he 
continued,  "  I  can't  afford  to  give  up  Justin  Gates,  and 
such  as  he ;  they  are  the  most  valuable  part  of  my  prac- 
tice ;  I  couldn't,  in  conscience,  ask  God's  blessing  upon 
me  if  I  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  calls  of  the  poor.  ] 
consider  my  practice  among  them  my  best  invest- 
ments. My  Master  will  repay  me  a  thousand-fold 
when  I  get  up  there,"  he  added,  with  a  devotional  glance 


IN    DISGUISE.  173 

toward  heaven.  "  So  you  see,  child,  how  the  matte) 
stands.'' 

I'll  do  my  best  for  the  poor  man,  though  I  must  con- 
fess he  is  in  some  danger ;  and  as  for  anything  else  you 
or  Uncle  Stephen  can  do  for  the  comfort  of  the  family,  I 
shall  say  amen  to  it." 

"  I  have  procured  him  a  nurse,"  answered  Alice,  who 
had  been  much  affected  by  what  he  had  said.  "  Mrs. 
Green  will  remain  there  as  long  as  she  is  needed." 

"  Ah  !  that's  right ;  the  best  thing  you  could  do.  She's 
a  model  of  a  nurse  ;  "  and  he  rose  to  go. 

Alice  went  across  the  room,  put  her  arms  around  his 
neck,  and  kissed  his  furrowed  cheek. 

Did  you  see  that,  mother?"  he  asked,  turning  to  his 
wife.  "  Fine  times  these,"  and  he  heartily  returned  her 
embrace,  saying  to  her,  "  I've  rode  you  on  my  knee  more 
times  than  I  can  count,  and  told  you  over  and  over 
again,  '  This  is  the  house  that  Jack  built.'  You 
wouldn't  give  me  a  kiss  for  the  asking ;  but  as  soon  as 
I  stopped,  you  must  needs  come  and  volunteer.  Well, 
that's  just  as  mother  used  to  do.  It's  natural  to  young 
girls." 

"  I  couldn't  help  it,"  replied  Alice,  looking  much 
amused.  "  I  believe  I  gave  it  to  you  for  your  kindness 
to  Justin  Gates  ;"  and  bidding  Mrs.  Jenks  a  kind  good 
morning,  she  was  soon  on  her  way  home. 

Upon  her  arrival,  she  found  the  family  in  some  excite- 
ment on  account  of  Edilh's  refusal  to  accept  the  hand 
of  Mr.  Huntington.  Uncle  Stephen  had  that  morning 
given  a  reluctant  consent  to  his  suit.  Her  father  was 
much  pleased,  hoping  that  his  influence  would  do  much 
15' 


174  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

to  soften  the  character  of  the  haughty  girl ;  but  to  the 
astonishment  of  all,  when  he  made  a  formal  offer  of  hia 
hand,  she  had  decidedly  refused  him,  though  she  con- 
fessed that  she  liked  him  better  than  any  other  person. 
His  profession  was  the  insuperable  objection  in  her  mind, 
as  she  had  determined  never  to  be  a  clergyman's  wife. 

This  was  a  keen  disappointment  to  the  young  candi- 
date for  holy  orders,  and  for  one  moment  the  thought 
was  cherished,  "  it  is  not  too  late  for  me  to  change  my 
profession;"  but  he  cast  it  aside  as  unworthy  of  him. 
He  had  never  made  any  secret  of  his  pleasure  in  her 
society,  and  as  she  had  not  discouraged  his  attentions, 
he  hoped  his  suit  would  terminate  favorably.  When 
he  returned  to  the  family,  pale  and  sad,  to  bid  them 
adieu,  Mr.  Stanley  drew  from  him  the  fact  that  he  had 
been  rejected.  He  \vas  very  much  displeased  with  his 
daughter,  as  he  knew  she  had  given  the  young  man 
reason  to  believe  she  loved  him.  But  Mr.  Hnntington 
would  allow  no  blame  to  rest  upon  her,  and  with  a  sad 
weight  at.  his  heart  bade  them  adieu. 

Uncle  Stephen  greatly  approved  the  course  Alice  had 
pursued  with  regard  to  the  sick  man  ;  and  asked  her  if 
she  wanted  more  money  to  carry  her  plans  into  effect. 
In  answer  to  which  question,  she  held  up  the  purse  which 
was  still  well  filled. 

The  next  day,  and  for  several  days  in  succession,  Alice 
rode  to  the  village  to  call  upon  her  protegds.  Mr.  Gates 
still  continued  very  sick,  and  the  kind-hearted  physician 
began  to  look  very  grave.  Mrs.  Gates  seemed  every  day 
more  dejected.  One  week  the  nurse  had  remained  wiih 
ner  patient,  and  Alice  paid  her  another  week's  wages,  and 


IN    DISGriSK.  175 

at  the  same  time  providing  for  the  wants  of  the  family 
One  morning,  however,  when  on  her  way  to  the  village, 
she  met  Dr.  Jenks.  He  stopped  his  horse.  "  Good  news 
for  youx.  I've  just  left  the  bedside  of  Justin  Gates,  and 
he  was  conscious.  I  think  the  crisis  has  passed,  and 
that  he  is  in  a  fair  way  to  recover.  It's  hardly  fair,  1 
know,  for  me  to  tell  the  news,  since  Maria  is  watching 
so  earnestly  for  you,  in  order  to  tell  it  herself." 

"  I  am  indeed  pleased  to  hear  it,"  said  Alice,  and  she 
hastened  on. 

It  was  indeed  so.  A  great  change  had  taken  place. 
For  the  first  time,  Alice  went  into  the  small  bedroom  to 
see  the  invalid.  She  stopped  but  a  moment,  for  fear  the 
excitement  of  seeing  a  stranger  would  injure  him,  in  his 
weak  state.  When  she  left  him,  the  grateful  wife  fol- 
lowed her  into  the  small  sitting-room,  and,  having  care- 
fully closed  the  door,  expressed  her  wish  that  Miss  Carey 
would  remain  for  a  few  moments. 

"  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure,"  replied  the  young  lady, 
though  she  \vondered  a  little  at  the  serious  tone  in  which 
the  request  was  uttered.  She  drew  a  chair  near  the  one 
where  Mrs.  Gates  had  seated  herself,  and  said,  kindly, 
"  You  have  much  to  be  thankful  for,  my  good  woman 
Dr.  Jenks  told  me  he  thought  your  husband  won  I.; 
recover." 

"  Oh,  I  have,  I  have!  "  she  exclaimed,  raising  her  tear- 
fnl  eyes  to  the  face  of  her  companion,  "  not  only  for  that, 
but  for  the  blessings  of  a  whole  life.  I  have  never  real- 
ized who  it  was  provided  for  all  my  wants,  and  supplied 
me  with  so  many  comforts.  Now  I  seem  to  be  just 
awaking  out  of  sleep.  I  remember  all  my  sins.  Oh 


176  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

how  could  1  have  been  so  forgetful  of  the  instructions  ol 
rny  deceased  mother  !  "  Her  feelings  entirely  overcame 
her,  and  she  sobbed  for  some  time  without  restraint. 

Alice  took  her  hand,  and  tried  to  soothe  her.  "  Re- 
member," she  said,  "that  if  you  are  truly  penitent,  God 
is  able  and  willing  to  forgive  you  all  your  sins." 

"  But  you  don't  know,  you  can't  imagine,  how  very 
wicked  I  have  been.  Not  that  I  have  ever  committed 
any  open  crime,  but  I  have  violated  the  sabbath.  I  have 
forgotten  God.  Weeks  and  months  have  passed  without 
my  ever  remembering  there  was  One  who  kept  me  alive, 
giving  me  food  and  raiment.  I  have  not  been  inside  of 
a  church  for  three  years ;  and  now  I  can  trace  the  com- 
mencement of  all  my  troubles  to  that  very  time.  Justin 
used  always  to  be  in  his  seat  morning  and  afternoon ; 
but  I  persuaded  him  to  ride  and  walk  with  me,  or  make 
a  social  visit,  as  we  had  to  work  so  hard  through  the 
week."  Suppressing  a  sob,  she  continued  :  "  Ever  since 
the  first  day  you  called,  and  asked  me  if  I  prayed,  I  have 
had  a  dreadful  weight  upon  rne.  Even  when  he  was 
released,  and  your  kind  friend  brought  him  home,  though 
I  was  rejoiced  to  see  him,  yet  I  could  not  throw  off  my 
burden.  And  now  this  morning,  when  the  doctor  told 
me  he  was  better,  I  didn't  feel  as  I  once  should.  Night 
after  night,  when  the  nurse  was  sleeping  in  her  chair  by 
the  side  of  my  husband's  bed,  I  have  crept  away  from 
my  little  ones,  and  come  down  here  to  read  in  the  Bible 
but  every  word  I  read  only  made  me  feel  worse,  and 
many  times  I  have  thought  'twas  no  use  to  try  to  be 
better ;  but  the  next  night  I'd  think  I'd  try  once  more. 
Miss  Carey,"  she  resumed,  after  a  momentary  pause  of 


IN    DISGUISF,.  177 

great  emotion,  lowering  her  voice,  and  speaking  in  a 
hoarse  whisper,  while  she  gazed  upon  her  companion  as 
if  upon  her  answer  hung  the  power  of  life  and  death, — 
"  Miss  Carey,  I'm  afraid  God  has  given  me  np."  Her 
eyes  were  now  tearless;  but  there  was  in  them  an  ex- 
pression of  unuttered  woe,  such  as  Alice  had  never  seen. 

For  one  moment  she  paused  to  wish  that  Mrs.  Stan- 
ley or  Clarence  were  there  to  speak  words  of  comfort  to 
the  anxious  inquirer  after  truth,  and  then,  with  a  silent 
uplifting  of  her  heart  to  God  for  wisdom  to  direct  her 
what  to  say,  she  commenced  :  "  It  is  the  adversary  who 
puts  such  thoughts  into  your  mind,  to  keep  you  from 
your  Saviour,  who  has  invited  you  to  come  to  him  that 
you  might  have  eternal  life.  If  it  were  as  you  imagine, 
that  you  have  been  left  to  yourself,  you  would  not  be 
troubled  with  fears.  The  sins  you  have  committed  would 
not  stare  you  in  the  face.  No :  it  is  the  Holy  Spirit 
striving  with  you,  to  bring  you  to  repentance,  to  make 
you  mourn  over  the  follies  of  your  past  life." 

"  I  do  indeed,  I  do  repent  of  them  with  all  rny  heart; 
but  it  makes  me  feel  worse  when  I  think  that,  in  spite 
of  all  I've  done,  He  has  been  so  good  to  me.  Oh,  J 
haven't  deserved  such  goodness!  When  Justin  was 
carried  off,  I  had  awful  thoughts,  and  asked  my.-rif, 
'  What  have  I  done  that  such  a  dreadful  affliction  should 
be  sent  upon  me?'  When  I  remember  God  knew  my 
wicked  thoughts,  I  am  humbled  to  the  dust." 

"  It  was  for  just  such  sinners  as  you  are  that  Christ 
died.  If  you  had  never  sinned,  you  would  not  need  a 
Saviour.  Your  husband  did  not  need  or  wish  for  9 
physician  as  long  as  he  was  well  ;  but  you  feel  thar.  you 


178  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

have  offended  God,  violated  his  holy  law*,  and  that  you 
must  be  lost  unless  you  are  pardoned.  Jesus  has  offered 
to  be  your  ransom,  and,  if  you  put  your  trust  in  him,  he 
will  save  you." 

With  a  quick  start,  Mrs.  Gates  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  a* 
if  she  could  hardly  realize  so  wonderful  a  plan  of  salva- 
tion. With  a  countenance  in  which  hope  and  fear  were 
striving  for  ascendency,  she  gazed  at  her  companion, 
then  closed  her  eyes,  and  said,  solemnly,  "  Oh  God,  for 
Christ's  sake,  save  my  guilty  soul !  " 

Never  has  that  plea  been  urged  in  vain.  Never  has  a 
repentant  sinner  humbly  called  upon  God,  plead  the 
merits  and  sacrifice  of  his  Son,  and  failed  to  receive  an 
answer  of  peace. 

For  a  short  time  Alice  paused.  She  did  not  wish  to 
interrupt  the  work  the  Holy  Spirit  was  carrying  on  in 
the  soul  of  the  penitent  woman  before  her.  Then  she 
silently  lifted  up  her  heart  to  ask  God  to  sanctify  the 
trials  and  afflictions  of  the  present  hour  to  her  salvation. 
Mrs.  Gates  instantly  imitated  her  example,  and  the 
young  girl  poured  out  her  full  heart  in  prayer  to  her 
heavenly  Father.  Before  she  left,  Alice  indulged  a  strong 
hope  that  the  interview  had  not  been  in  vain.  Instead  of 
despairing  sorrow  stamped  upon  every  feature,  there  \vai> 
now  upon  the  countenance  of  the  good  woman  an 
expression  of  earnest  and  holy  trust.  She  exhibited 
marks  of  strong  feeling  as  Alice  took  her  leave,  and  said, 
with  deep  emotion,  "  Oh,  Miss  Carry!  don't  forget  to 
pray  for  my  poor  Justin,  that  God  would  bring  him  to 
repentance." 


CHAPTER    XV. 

"  Oh,  there  is  need  that  on  men's  hearts  should  fall 
A  spirit  that  can  sympathize  with  all." —  Carey. 

WHEN  Alice  returned  home,  instead  of  joining  the 
family  in  the  parlor,  she  retired  to  her  own  room,  and 
passed  the  remainder  of  the  forenoon  in  giving  thanks 
to  God  for  making  her  the  feeble  instrument  of  good  to 
one  soul.  During  these  hours  of  meditation,  she  saw  a 
great  field  of  usefulness  opening  before  her.  She  need 
not.  go  to  a  distance  to  be  useful  to  her  fellow-creatures. 
She  determined  to  seek  one  among  the  inhabitants  of 
her  native  village.  Where  she  found  temporal  distress, 
she  knew  that  the  hand  of  her  kind  benefactor  was  ever 
open  to  supply  her  with  the  means  to  relieve  it.  She 
was  so  much  engrossed  with  this  subject  that  she  had 
no  time  to  think  of  herself;  and,  when  she  went  below 
to  join  the  family  at  dinner,  peace  and  hope  irradiated 
every  feature.  But  here  she  was  destined  to  new  trials. 
Gertrude,  who  was  every  day  more  convinced  that  Clar- 
ence had  become  wholly  indifferent  to  her,  unworthily 
ascribed  the  change  to  the  arts  of  Alice  to  win  his  favor. 
The  demon  of  jealousy  had  taken  possession  of  her  soul, 
and  at  times  almost  maddened  her.  In  Edith  she  found 
a  willing  listener  to  all  the  abuse  she  wished  to  heap 
upon  the  innocent  object  of  her  displeasure.  When  she 
heard  of  Alice's  proposition  to  leave  Lindemvood,  and 

179 


180  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

become  a  teacher,  her  heart  bounded  with  joy  ;  but,  when 
made  aware  that  her  father  and  mother  firmly  opposed 
the  plan,  and  insisted  that  she  should  remain  with  them, 
she  hated  them  for  not  falling  in  with  her  views,  or  fail- 
ing to  see  that  they  were  thwarting  her  interests.  She 
thought  she  loved  Clarence ;  but  now.  as  she  confessed 
to  Edith,  she  could  almost  wish  him  dead  rather  than  to 
see  him  become  the  husband  of  Alice,  who,  by  the  kind- 
ness of  her  father,  had  been  raised  from  abject  poverty 
She  watched  the  poor  girl  with  Argus  eyes,  and  was 
ready  to  ascribe  the  worst  motive  to  every  action.  It 
was  fortunate  for  the  young  girl  that  she  did  not  suspect 
half  the  unkindness  that  was  cherished  toward  her.  For 
years  Emma  had  been  a  loving,  confiding  friend,  one 
who  sympathized  in  all  her  trials,  and  was  ready  to  ward 
off,  as  much  as  in  her  power,  the  poisoned  shafts  aimed 
at  her  heart.  When  Alice  appeared  at  dinner,  Gertrude, 
who  could  neither  appreciate  nor  understand  the  source 
of  her  calm  happiness,  ascribed  her  cheerfulness  to  othef 
causes,  and  even  suspected  Clarence  had  confessed  hia 
affection.  This  suspicion  was  confirmed  by  a  remark 
the  young  girl  made  in  answer  to  Mrs.  Stanley,  who 
frankly  said,  "  I  think,  my  love,  from  your  countenance, 
you  must  have  found  your  patient  convalescent ;  you 
appear  very  happy." 

"  Yes,  mamma,"  replied  Alice,  in  a  low  voice,  intended 
only  for  the  ear  of  her  mother,  as  she  sat  by  her  side, 
"  and  my  heart  is  at  rest." 

It  was  plain  also  that  Mrs.  Stanley  attached  a  different 
meaning  to  her  words  from  the  one  she  intended  to 
convey,  for  she  gazed  earnestly  at  her  for  a  moment, 


IN    DISGCISK.  182 

and  then  fell  into  a  reverie  so  profound  as  to  be  making 
continual  blunders  during  the  remainder  of  the  repast. 

When  her  father  left  the  room  after  dinner,  Gertrude 
could  no  longer  restrain  her  ill  humor,  and  said,  aloud, 
"  I  wonder,  mother,  that  you  allow  Alice  to  be  riding  !o 
the  village  every  day.  If  she  has  not  delicacy  enough 
to  perceive  the  impropriety,  I  should  think  you  would 
use  your  influence  or  authority  to  restrain  her." 

Uncle  Stephen  grew  very  red,  a  sure  sign  he  was  wax- 
ing wrathy,  but  for  once  he  kept  silent. 

"  I  cannot  understand,"  replied  the  lady,  "  how  she 
violates  any  rule  of  propriety,  or  of  delicacy,  by  riding 
to  the  village  to  visit  a  sick  person." 

"  Not  when  every  one  knows  she  goes  there  for  the 
sake  of  seeing  Clarence!-"  was  the  angry  retort.  "  Re- 
marks are  already- made  upon  it." 

Alice  started  to  her  feet  with  indignation  stamped 
upon  every  feature,  and  was  about  to  deny  any  such 
motive,  but,  at  a  glance  from  her  mother,  again  seated 
herself,  though  her  heart  palpitated  so  as  to  shake  her 
whole  frame. 

"  Gertrude,"  said  Mrs.  Stanley,  with  emotion,  "  such 
remarks  do  far  more  injury  to  you  than  to  her.  You,  as 
well  as  each  of  us,  know  that  Alice  is  the  last  one  who 
would  be  guilty  of  an  attempt  to  draw  undue  attention 
to  herself.  I  could  wish  that  all  my  daughters  might 
imitate  her  example  in  that  respect,  I  will  not  allow 
her  to  degrade  herself  so  far  as  to  deny  the  charge."  So 
saying,  she  turned  to  leave  the  room,  desiring  Alice  to 
follow  her. 

For  a  long  time  after  they  were  alone,  the  poor  child 
16 


182  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL, 

could  only  hide  her  blushing  face  in  her  mother's  lap,  aa 
she  occupied  a  stool  at  her  feet.  At  length  she  sobbed 
out,  "  It  is  cruel,  cruel,  in  her  to  make  such  a  charge. 
Indeed,  I  have  never  seen  him,  except  on  the  morning 
when  I  rode  with  Uncle  Stephen,  and  then  only  for  a 
moment,  and  that,  too,  in  the  street." 

"  I  knew  it,  my  love,"  replied  Mrs  Stanley,  soothingly 
"  It  is  foolish  to  weep,  and  yet  I  know  such  insinuations 
are  hard  to  bear.  But  which,  Alice,  would  you  choose 
—  to  be  in  your  situation,  and  endure  such  a  trial  as  she 
has  inflicted  upon  your  sensitive  heart,  or  be  in  hers,  and 
inflict  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  mamma,  I  never  could  say  such  unkind  things 
to  her.  I  had  tenfold  rather  be  the  one  to  endure." 

"Yes,  dear,  she  is  to  be  pitied;  but  she  has  this  excuse. 
She  has  been  disappointed  in  her  dearest  wishes  and 
hopes,  and  she  feels  it  keenly." 

"  In  what  has  she  been  disappointed  ?  " 

"  In  the  affection  she  hoped  to  gain  from  Clarence.  It 
cannot  be  new  to  you." 

"  But  she  said,"  eagerly  replied  Alice,  "  that  he  had 
told  her  he  loved  her,  but  that  Uncle  Stephen  was  not 
to  know  it  for  the  present." 

Poor  Alice  became  painfully  confused,  and  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands.  "I  have  done  very,  very  wrong 
to  tell  you  this,  for  I  overheard  it,"  she  added,  as  a  shade 
of  keen  disappointment  passed  over  her  mother's  face, 
and  the  thought  of  what  she  had  heard  in  the  same 
connection  caused  her  cheeks  to  burn  like  fire.  A  dread 
tul  struggle  took  place  in  her  breast  —  a  desire  to  unbur- 
den her  heart,  even  by  confessing  her  folly  in  giving  her 


IX    DISGUISE  183 

affections  unsought ;  and  opposed  to  this,  the  bitter  mor- 
tification it  would  cause  her  to  do  so.  Shame  at  length 
prevailed,  and  she  said  to  herself, "  I  shall  conquer,  I  ivill 
conquer,  myself! " 

At  length  Mrs.  Stanley  asked,  quietly,  "  Can  you  not 
tell  me  why  you  were  so  happy  at  dinner  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered,  her  countenance  brightening, 
"  I  intended  to  tell  you.  But  first  will  you  tell  me  if 
you  ever  thought  me  guilty  of — of  what  Gertrude 
said  ?  " 

"  Guilty  ?  No,  my  child !  not  in  the  slightest  degree. 
I  never  shall  see  you  doing  wrong,  without  telling  you 
of  it." 

Alice  then  related  to  her  mother  the  events  of  the 
morning.  Mrs.  Stanley's  sympathizing  countenance  bore 
ample  testimony  to  her  interest  for  the  penitent  woman. 

In  the  meantime  Gertrude  sat  at  her  sewing  in  the 
vain  endeavor  to  appear  indifferent  to  what  had  occurred. 
She  was  vexed  that  her  charges  had  not  at  least  satisfied 
her  curiosity,  whether  Alice  did  meet  Clarence  in  the  vil- 
lage. She  was  mortified  that  she  had  been  led  by  her 
jea.ousy  to  make  the  insinuation  in  so  public  a  manner, 
and  she  was  puzzled  beyond  measure  by  the  appearance 
of  Uncle  Stephen,  who  sat  chuckling  to  himself  as  if  he- 
had  very  merry  thoughts,  while,  for  a  queer,  quizzical  ex- 
pression upon  his  countenance  she  in  vain  endeavored  to 
account,  except  upon  the  supposition  that  he  knew,  and 
was  satisfied  with  the  state  of  his  ward's  affections.  He 
said  not  a  word  by  which  she  could  gain  a  clew  to  his 
thoughts  ;  but  sat  twirling  his  heavy  watch  chain,  as  was 
his  habit  when  in  good  humor. 


184  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

When  Mrs.  Stanley  and  Alice  were  .summoned  io  tea, 
not  a  trace  of  unkindness  appeared  upon  the  counte- 
nance of  the  latter.  In  her  small  closet,  where  she  had 
so  often  sought  and  obtained  strength  to  overcome  hei 
inward  adversaries,  she  had  gained  a  victory  over  ever) 
unkind  feeling.  She  had  even  earnestly  besought  a  bless- 
ing upon  the  one  who  had  endeavored  to  injure  her.  The 
answer  had  come  in  peace  to  her  own  soul. 

After  tea,  Uncle  Stephen  called  her  to  his  side,  and 
engaged  her  in  conversation  ;  and  when,  at  a  distance 
from  the  family  group  who  gathered  about  the  centre- 
table,  she  gave  him  a  brief  account  of  her  morning  visit 
to  the  poor  family,  and  in  her  interest  for  them  forgot  all 
which  had  annoyed  her. 

The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  and  though  Alice  was 
very  anxious  to  hear  from  "her  prote'ge's,  she  concluded 
not  to  visit  them.  After  service  in  the  afternoon,  as  she 
and  Emma  were  walking  from  church,  they  met  Dr. 
Jenks.  He  stopped  his  horse,  and  told  her  Mr.  Gates 
continued  to  improve,  and  he  added,  "  His  wife  is  so 
happy  that  she  must  needs  tell  everybody  about  it."  The 
eyes  of  the  good  man  were  moistened  as  he  said  this, 
and  not  liking  to  have  his  emotion  observed,  he  snd'lenly 
nodded  his  adieu,  and  drove  on. 

At  an  early  hour  on  the  following  day,  Alice  walked 
to  the  village,  taking  with  her  one  or  two  devotional 
books,  and  also  a  small  basket  of  delicacies,  from  Mrs. 
Stanley,  to  the  invalid. 

"  I  almost  envy  you,"  said  Emma,  as  she  gayly  bid  her 
good  morning. 

"  Then  why  not  accompany  me  ?  " 


IN    DISGUISE.  185 

"  Not  this  morning,"  replied  Emma. 

Alice  found  Nurse  Green  in  the  small  entry  of  Mrs. 
Gates's  house,  in  earnest  discussion  with  a  poorly-dressed 
woman,  who  was  weeping  bitterly.  The  sight  of  grief 
always  affected  the  heart  of  Alice,  and  she  stopped  to 
inquire  the  cause  of  this  sorrow. 

"  Her  sister,"  replied  the  nurse,  "  is  the  wife  of  one  of 
the  men  who  were  sentenced  to  prison  a  few  weeks  since. 
She  carne  to  see  if  I  would  go  there  for  a  few  days  when 
I'm  through  here.  The  poor  creature  has  almost  cried 
herself  to  death,  though  everybody  thinks  she  is  well  rid 
of  him.  He  used  to  beat  and  abuse  her  shamefully,  be- 
cause she  wouldn't  uphold  him  in  his  wicked  conduct." 

"  Where  does  she  live  ?  "  inquired  Alice. 

"  A  few  doors  beyond  me,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
street,  in  a  small,  brown  house." 

"  Do  you  live  with  her  ?  "  inquired  the  young  lady, 
addressing  the  woman. 

"  No,  ma'am,  I  have  a  family  of  my  own  ;  but  I  feel 
so  much  for  my  poor  sister  that  I  am  willing  to  pay 
Nurse  Green  if  she  will  go  there.  I've  been  back  and 
forth  to  take  care  of  her  for  nearly  a  fortnight ;  but  I 
have  a  baby,  and  I'd  rather  pay  her  than  go  as  I  have 
done." 

"  I  will  cull  and  see  her,  before  I  go  home.  Perhaps 
we  can  make  some  arrangement  with  Mrs.  Green." 

After  the  woman  had  gone,  Alice  made  more  particu- 
lar inquiries  about  her  circumstances,  and  found  her  case 
really  more  necessitous  than  the  one  in  which  she  was 
BO  much  interested. 

y  T  was  just  wishing."  said  the  good  nurse,  "  that  the 
Hi' 


186  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

Lord  would  direct  some  kind  friend  to  her  door,  as  he  did 
you  to  this.  Maria  Gates  speaks  of  it  every  day." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  aware,"  responded  Alice,  "  that  I 
only  distribute  the  bounty  of  a  rich  friend,  who  does  not 
let  his  right  hand  know  what  his  left  hand  does." 

"  La !  "  said  Mrs.  Green,  smoothing  down  her  apron, 
"  I  guess  'tisn't  much  of  a  secret  who  it  comes  from. 
I've  known  of  his  charities  these  four  years,  though  he 
does  take  mighty  queer  ways  to  bestow  them.  The  pres- 
ent way  is  the  best,  I'm  thinking ;  but  I'll  speak  to 
Maria." 

When  she  opened  the  door  into  the  bed-room,  Alice 
saw  the  invalid  bolstered  up  in  bed,  while  his  wife  sat  by 
his  side,  reading  to  him  from  an  old,  leather-covered 
Bible.  The  babe  lay  asleep  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  She 
came  forward  joyfully  to  meet  the  young  lady,  and 
grasped  her  warmly  by  the  hand. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Carey ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  my  burden  is 
gone.  All  is  peace  here,"  putting  her  hand  to  her  heart. 
"  I  have  longed  for  you  to  come,  that  you  might  talk 
with  Justin." 

Alice  made  a  sign  for  her  to  be  silent,  as  the  sick  man 
could  hear  every  word,  fearing  lest  in  her  zeal  she  should 
defeat  her  own  object.  They  immediately  passed  to  the 
bedside  of  Mr.  Gates,  who  at  first  appeared  very  much 
embarrassed  ;  but,  as  Alice  sat  down  by  him,  and  at- 
tempted to  turn  his  mind  from  himself  to  other  topics, 
he  became  at  length  more  free,  and  expressed  his  grati- 
tude for  her  attention  to  his  family.  "  Maria  would  have 
had  a  tough  time  of  it,"  he  added, "  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
the  help  you've  been  to  her." 


IN    DISGUISE.  187 

"  Do  you  enjoy  reading  ?  "  she  asked  ;  "  I  noticed  your 
wife  was  reading  to  you  when  I  came  in." 

"  Middling,"  he  answered,  frankly.  "  To  tell  the  truth 
I  a'n't  much  of  a  reader,  myself;  but  I  like  to  hear  her, 
she  enters  into  it  so.  It  seems  to  come  right  home." 

"  I  have  brought  a  little  book  which  perhaps  may 
please  you.  It  is  one  which  has  greatly  interested  me." 

"If  it  wouldn't  bother  you  too  much  I  should  like  to 
hear  it.  I  find  it's  dull  music  to  lie  in  bed,  and  it's  what 
I  rflivn't  been  used  to.  I  never  was  hauled  up  in  my  life 
before." 

"  You  have,  indeed,  much  to  be  grateful  for.  Have  you 
ever  thought  to  whom  you  was  indebted  for  health  ?  " 

"  Why,  no ;  can't  say  I  ever  thought  much  about  it. 
Suppose  it's  owing  to  my  having  such  a  firm  constitu- 
tion." 

"  But  who  gave  you  such  a  firm  constitution  ?  " 

"  Well,  1  can't  say.  I  allus  supposed  'twas  born  with 
me." 

Alice  was  sorely  puzzled.  She  did  not  feel  at  all  sure 
whether  this  ignorance  were  real,  or  only  feigned  in  order 
to  get  rid  of  religious  conversation.  She  had  never  seen 
much  of  the  world,  nor  of  the  different  phases  of  human 
character,  and  was  at  a  loss  to  judge  how  it  we  uld  be 
best  to  proceed  with  him,  for  her  heart  was  fully  set  on 
his  conversion.  She  determined,  however,  not  to  press 
the  subject  upon  him  at  present,  but  to  gain  his  confi- 
dence, that  she  might  converse  with  him  in  future  with 
more  hope  of  doing  him  good.  Therefore,  saying  to  Mrs. 
Gates  that  she  would  watch  by  the  babe  if  she  wished 
to  be  engaged  with  her  family,  she  opened  her  book  and 


188  THE    HOUSEHOLD    AN'GEL 

commenced  reading.  Mrs.  Gates  soon  resumed  her  seat, 
after  seeing  that  Lizzie  was  safe  in  the  little  yard,  and 
with  her  sewing  in  her  hand,  was  prepared  to  listen  to 
her  young  friend. 

The  book  was  a  short  and  simple  narrative  of  a  father 
converted  by  the  death  of  his  child.  As  she  read  on 
through  some  of  the  more  touching  scenes,  she  could  see 
that  her  hearers  were  much  affected.  Mr.  Gates  was 
obliged  repeatedly  to  wipe  his  eyes  with  his  shirt  sleeve, 
and  when  she  stopped,  fearing  he  might  be  wearied,»he 
eagerly  asked  her  to  go  on.  But  when  she  had  finished, 
and  his  wife  asked  him  if  he  "had  not  enjoyed  it,  he  re- 
plied, "  If  it  had  been  livelier  'twould  have  suited  me  bet- 
ter." 

Yet  his  benefactress  determined  not  to  yield  to  dis- 
couragement. She  felt  sure  this  indifference  was  partly 
assumed,  to  conceal  his  real  feelings ;  and  she  trusted  in 
the  Spirit  of  God  for  the  result.  With  her  own  hands 
she  took  the  jellies  and  other  articles  from  the  basket, 
retaining  only  a  couple  of  oranges  for  her  next  call,  and 
then  putting  a  small  book  of  prayers  into  the  hands  of 
Mrs.  Gates,  she  bade  them  good  morning  ;  but  had  pro- 
ceeded no  farther  than  the  entry,  when  to  her  great  con- 
fusion she  found  Clarence  standing  there.  He  had 
knocked  repeatedly  at  the  outer  door,  and,  failing  of  be- 
ing heard,  had  advanced  to  the  inner.  The. conversation 
of  the  preceding  day  darted  through  the  mind  of  the  poor 
girl,  causing  her  the  most  painful  embarrassment ;  but, 
with  an  effort  to  speak  calmly,  she  told  him  she  would 
speak  to  Mrs.  Gates,  and  was  hastening  to  do  so,  when 
he  said,  gravely,  "  Alice,  have  I  offended  you  by  coming 
here  ? '' 


IN    DISGUISE.  189 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !  "  she  replied,  eagerly,  "  only  —  "  she  hes- 
itated and  then  stopped.  It  was  impossible  to  explain. 

He  seemed  grieved  that  she  did  not  reply  more  frankly, 
and  the  consciousness  of  this,  and  of  not- being  able  to 
do  so, greatly  increased  her  confusion.  Oh,  how  earnestly 
she  wished  that  Emma  had  accompanied  her,  or  that  she 
had  gone  one  moment  sooner! 

At  length,  after  an  awkward  silence,  she  turned  to  go 
into  the  room,  and  he  made  no  farther  objection  to  her 
doing  so.  Mrs.  Gates  recognized  him  at  once,  so  that 
Alice  waited  only  a  moment,  and,  with  a  slight  bow, 
left  the  room.  Now  that  it  was  too  late,  she  keenly  re- 
gretted her  haste,  since  her  evident  avoidance  of  him  had 
given  him  pain,  especially  as  he  would  be  at  a  loss  to 
understand  her  reason  for  doing  so.  But  her  thoughts 
were  soon  directed  into  another  channel  as  she  ap- 
proached the  low-roofed  cottage,  to  which  she  had  been 
directed. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

"  It  is  not  well, 

Here  in  this  land  of  Christian  liberty, 
That  honest  worth  or  hopeless  want  should  dwell 
Unaided  by  our  care  and  sympathy." — Carey. 

AFTER  knocking  repeatedly  at  the  outer  door,  she 
gently  pushed  it  open  and  proceeded  to  the  inner,  where 
her  application  for  admittance  was  immediately  an- 
swered by  a  faint  voice  bidding  her  enter.  Upon  a  low 
bed  in  the  corner  of  the  room  lay  a  woman  apparently 
about  thirty  years  of  age,  whose  pale,  emaciated  coun- 
tenance called  forth  her  warmest  sympathies.  A  young 
child  lay  nestled  close  to  its  mother,  in  the  sweet  sleep 
of  childhood,  while  everything  in  and  about  the  room, 
though  denoting  great  poverty,  yet  betokened  the  strict- 
est regard  for  neatness. 

"  This,"  thought  Alice,  "  is  the  work  of  her  kind 
sister."  But  she  was  mistaken. 

At  a  lo\v  call  from  his  mother,  a  noble-looking  boy 
made  his  appearance  from  a  room  in  the  rear.  He  camt 
forward  when  he  saw  the  visitor,  and  passed  her  a  chair 
with  a  freedom  from  restraint  and  awkwardness  very 
unusual  for  a  boy  of  his  age. 

"  My  mother  is  very  sick  this  morning,"  he  said,  ad- 
dressing Alice,  "  and  has  not  been  able  to  rise ;  but  she 
will  be  glad  to  see  you."  He  then  advanced  to  the  bed 

190 


IN    DISGUISE.  191 

and  gently  relieving  her  from  the  child,  he  raised  the  pil- 
lows, and  tenderly  assisted  her  to  turn  to  the  side  where 
Alice  was  sitting. 

, "  You  are  very  kind  to  call,"  said  the  poor  woman, 
making  an  effort  to  keep  back  her  tears  ;  "my  sister  U>ld 
me  you  would  do  so." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  find  you  so  ill,  replied  Alice,  "  and 
regret  that  I  did  not  sooner  hear  of  your  sickness." 

The  woman,  whose  name  was  Hay  den,  suddenly  drevv 
up  the  bed-clothes  to  cover  her  face,  and  there  was  a 
sound  of  violent  sobbing. 

"  My  mother  has  not  been  able  to  talk  much,"  said  the 
boy,  apologetically,  while  he  gazed  with  the  utmost 
tenderness  at  the  bed,  where  the  motion  of  the  clothes 
plainly  showed  the  difficulty  she  found  in  suppressing 
her  feelings. 

"  And  who  takes  care  of  her  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  said  the  boy,  drawing  himself  up  "  My  aunl 
has  been  here  often,  and  watched  with  mother  at  night 
until  she  herself  was  taken  sick.  She  has  a  large  family 
of  her  own,  and  the  additional  care  was  too  much  for  her." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Dexter,  ma'am,  Dexter  Hayden." 

"  Well,  Dexter,  you  and  I  must  do  the  business  then. 
Has  your  mother  had  any  breakfast  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  ma'am,  I  baked  some  potatoes  for  Minnie 
and  myself;  and  aunt  Lucy  brought  mother  a  nice  bowl 
of  gruel.  If  she  would  only  be  willing  for  me  to  stay 
at  home  from  school,  I  could  do  all  that  she  requires ; 
but  it  frets  her  to  have  me  absent  from  my  class  for  a 
single  recitation." 


192  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

Alice  gazed  at  the  boy  with  astonishment,  as  he  stood 
oefore  her,  answering  her  questions  with  modesty,  but 
perfect  self-possession.  But  eleven  summers  had  passed 
over  his  head,  and  yet  there  was  a  maturity  and  manli- 
ness about  him  which  she  had  never  witnessed  in  one  so 
young.  Thick  clustering  locks  curled  up  from  his  high 
brow.  His  clear,  gray  eyes,  his  mouth  of  mingled  sweet- 
ness and  firmness,  together  with  his  strong  self-reliance, 
convinced  her  he  had  already  made  resolves  to  free  his 
beloved  mother  from  poverty  and  disgrace.  "  That  boy 
will  distinguish  himself,"  was  her  instinctive  feeling  as 
she  listened  to  him.  She  would  have  had  more  reason 
to  think  so,  could  she  have  known  of  his  standing  in  his 
class,  and  that  the  teacher  of  the  Academy,  prompted 
not  only  by  motives  of  charity,  but  by  a  desire  to  retain 
a  scholar  who  was  a  model  of  propriety  as  an  example  to 
the  school,  had  cheerfully  given  him  his  tuition  ;  that  his 
good  conduct,  and  willingness  to  oblige  his  companions, 
had  caused  him  to  be  so  much  beloved  and  respected  by 
them  that  never,  in  his  presence,  had  the  most  distant 
allusion  been  made  to  the  disgrace  of  his  father. 

But  this  had  been  a  dreadful  blow  to  the  poor  boy. 
For  the  sake  of  his  mother,  whom  it  had  crushed  to  the 
earth,  he  had  striven  to  be  cheerful.  Yet  there  were 
times  when  a  sense  of  shame  and  disgrace  overpowered 
him  ;  and  he  was  obliged  to  hide  himself,  in  the  low 
attic,  over  his  mother's  room,  until  he  could  obtain  a 
victory  over  himself,  and  again  be  in  a  condition  to 
appear  cheerful  before  her. 

Alice  knew  nothing  of  all  this  until  a  much  later 
period  ;  the  longer  she  saw  and  conversed  with  him,  the 


IN   DISGUISE. 

more  she  became  interested  in  him  ;  and  she  determined 
to  recommend  him  to  Uncle  Stephen  as  a  noble  bene- 
ficiary. She  had  ascertained  before  she  left  Mrs.  Gates, 
that  they  could  dispense  with  the  services  of  Nurse 
Green  in  a  very  few  days,  if  Justin  gained  in  strength 
as  fast  as  he  had  done.  Mrs.  Gates,  indeed,  offered  to 
release  her  at  once,  but  she  had  not  thought  it  best  to 
run  the  risk  of  a  relapse  for  want  of  proper  care.  She 
therefore  asked  Dexter  if  he  knew  of  any  one  he  could 
obtain  for  a  short  period.  But  he  did  not,  and  there  was 
no  way  but  for  him  to  go  on  as  well  as  he  could  until 
Mrs.  Green  was  able  to  come.  Alice  secretly  resolved  to 
provide  the  necessary  food,  and  to  be  there  herself  much 
of  the  time. 

Little  Minnie  now  awoke,  and  pulling  the  bed-clothes 
from  her  mother's  face,  began  to  kiss  away  her  tears, 
lisping :  "  Mamma  not  cry,  Minnie  will  be  dood." 

Her  caresses  did  more  than  anything  else  toward 
restoring  the  afflicted  mother  to  composure ;  and  Alice 
was  much  affected  to  see  her  press  the  child  convulsively 
to  her  heart.  It  was  indeed  a  beautiful  face,  peeping  so 
brightly  from  under  her  long  flaxen  curls,  while  she  raised 
her  tiny  fingers  to  brush  away  the  tears  that  lay  upon 
her  mother's  cheek. 

Dexter  was  evidently  very  proud  of  his  sister,  and 
anxious  to  exhibit  her  to  their  visitor.  He  went  tc  the 
side  of  the  bed.  and  holding  out  his  arms,  said  :  "  Come, 
Minnie,  and  speak  to  the  lady." 

The  child  sprang  t<  ward  him,  and  hid  her  laughing 
face  in  his  neck. 

Alice  took  an  orange  from  the  basket,  and  held  it  up 
17 


194 


TIIK    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 


as  an  inducement  to  Minnie  to  come  to  her.  ttut  for  a 
,ong  time  the  little  Miss  was  very  shy.  She  reached  out 
to  take  the  proffered  fruit,  and  then  clung  tightly  to  her 
brother's  neck  if  Alice  offered  to  take  her  from  him. 
The  young  lady  was  pleased  to  see  that  Mrs.  Hay  den's 
eyes  rested  upon  the  scene  before  her  with  an  appearan<« 
of  interest,  forgetting  for  the  moment  her  own.  hrarl- 
sorrow ;  and  she  trusted  that  time  would  moderate  her 
grief,  and  restore  her  at  least  to  partial  cheerfulness.  As 
it  was  near  noon,  she  put  a  sum  of  money  into  the 
hand  of  Dexter,  and  requested  him  to  buy  some  bread, 
a  lump  of  butter,  a  pound  of  tea,  and  seven  pounds  of 
sugar. 

The  boy  proudly  put  back  the  money,  as  if  he  could 
not  accept  charity ;  but  after  a  single  glance  at  his 
mother,  with  a  heightened  color,  he  took  it,  as  Alice 
said  with  a  smile,  "  I  have  been  walking  since  breakfast, 
and  begin  to  feel  very  hungry  ;  if  you  will  allow  me  I 
will  dine  with  you  to-day." 

With  a  bright  smile  of  gratitude,  the  boy  took  down 
his  cap  from  a  hook  and  darted  away. 

He  was  gone  but  a  few  moments  before  he  returned 
with  the  parcels.  When  Alice,  who,  some  time  before 
this  had  laid  aside  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  arose,  and 
putting  Minnie  in  a  chair  by  the  bedside,  accompanied 
Dexter  into  a  small,  back  room,  or  shed,  where  a  cooking 
stove  had  been  set.  Here,  as  in  the  front  apartment, 
everything  was  scrupulously  neat  and  clean.  A  small 
pile  of  brush  lay  in  the  box  by  the  stove,  the  preparation 
of  which  had  occupied  Dexter  on  her  entrance.  He  told 
her  he  would  soon  have  a  fire  under  the  tea-kettle;  and 


IN    DISGUISE.  193 

the  young  girl,  whose  object  in  following  him,  had  been 
to  ascertain  their  most  pressing  wants,  returned  to  the 
room  she  had  left.  Minnie  had  crept  upon  the  bed  by 
her  mother,  but  soon  left  her  place  at  the  invitation  of 
Alice  to  come  and  help  her  get  dinner.  A  leaf  of  the 
large  table  was  turned  up,  and  the  child  tried  to  pull 
open  the  drawer,  to  show  that  the  cloth  and  knives  were 
in  there.  Then  she  drew  her  new  friend  to  the  cupboard, 
saying  "  Minnie's  cup  there,  Minnie  wants  to  drink  with 
new  cup." 

"  If  mamma  pleases,"  replied  Alice ;  and  the  child  ran 
to  the  bed  to  gain  permission.  Then  the  cups,  plates 
and  spoons  were  taken  down,  and  laid  in  order  upon  the 
table.  Minnie  was  almost  wild  with  delight,  at  being 
allowed  to  assist  in  carrying  them  across  the  room.  When 
the  bread  had  been  neatly  cut  in  slices,  and  the  butter  laid 
upon  a  plate,  the  child  could  not  contain  her  joy.  She 
pulled  the  dress  of  Alice  to  have  her  stoop  down,  put  her 
small,  plump  arms  around  her  neck,  lisping  out,  "  Min- 
nie loves  you,  Minnie  do."  Until  then,  Alice  had  never 
known  that  she  was  especially  fond  of  children  ;  but  the 
frank  avowal  of  the  sweet  little  girl  touched  a  chord  in 
her  heart  which  never  after  ceased  to  vibrate.  She 
warmly  returned  the  embrace,  as  .she  said,  "  I  love  Minnie 
very  dearly." 

Dexter  soon  came  in  with  the  tea,  but  said,  hesi- 
tatingly, "  there  is  no  milk." 

"  Ah,  I  quite  forgot  the  milk,"  replied  the  young 
housekeeper,  and  she  laughed  merrily  as  she  requested 
him  to  buy  a  quart  as  soon  as  possible,  as  she  intended 


196  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

to   make  his   mother  a  slice  of  toast,  and   Minnie  was 
looking  forward  to  a  treat  from  her  new  cup. 

Mrs.  Hayden,  from  the  bed,  uttered  a  low  remon- 
strance about  the  toast,  but  Alice  cheerfully  assured  her 
that  she  should  take  great  pleasure  in  making  it  for  her. 
After  a  short  time  the  dinner  was  announced.  Mrs.  Hay- 
den  was  raised  to  an  upright  position,  —  all  the  pillows 
in  the  house  being  brought  into  requisition  ;  a  towel  was 
laid  before  her  in  place  of  a  napkin,  and  her  toast  and 
tea  relished  so  well  that  she  acknowledged,  in  a  far  more 
cheerful  voice  than  she  had'  yet  spoken,  that  she  was 
almost  strong  enough  to  sit  up. 

When  they  arose  from  the  table,  the  little  girl  clapped 
her  hands,  exclaiming,  "  Minnie  had  dood  dinner,  Minnie 
want  you  to  come  next  time." 

After  assisting  Dexter  to  carry  the  dishes  to  a  table  in 
the  back  room,  where  he  preferred  to  wash  them  by  him- 
self, Alice  reluctantly  prepared  to  take  leave.  It  \yas 
very  easy  for  her  to  see  that  her  visit  had  done  the  in- 
valid much  good,  and  she  feared  when  she  left,  the  af- 
flicted woman  would  relapse  into  her  former  despondence. 

Her  presence  had,  indeed,  operated  like  a  charm.  Her 
bright  eyes,  smiling  face,  and  cheerful  voice  had  inspired 
the  heart-broken  mother  with  a  new  feeling  of  courage 
to  look  into  the  future.  She  saw,  too,  that  her  young 
friend  was  interested  in  her  little  Minnie,  and  appreciated 
the  excellences  of  her  noble  boy ;  and  the  mother's  heart 
swelled  with  emotions  of  pride  as  she  gazed  upon  them. 

After  putting  into  Minnie's  hand  a  piece  of  silver  to 
buy  some  milk  for  her  supper,  Alice  left,  promising  to 
return  on  the  morrow.  During  her  solitary  walk  home, 


IN    DISGUISE.  197 

her  thoughts  took  a  very  unusual  turn.  "  Oh,"  she  said 
almost  audibly,  ':  I  wish  I  were  rich  !  How  much  happi- 
ness there  is  in  doing  good!  I  never  passed  a  more 
pleasant  morning." 

There  was  an  air  about  the  family  which  assured  her 
that  they  had  seen  better  days.  The  manner  and  lan- 
guage of  Dexter  proved  that  he  had  not  always  been 
oppressed  with  poverty.  But  the  father  had  proved  him- 
self a  villain.  How  could  he  so  forget  his  tender  wife 
and  beautiful  children?  What  a  trial  his  neglect  and  abuse 
must  have  been  to  her  gentle  heart !  Had  she  religion  ? 
One  only  thing  had  occurred  which  led  her  to  think  so. 
When  they  sat  down  to  dinner,  Minnie  reverently  folded 
her  hands,  and  closed  her  eyes,  thus  evincing  a  habit  of 
acknowledging  God.  Dexter  colored  slightly,  and  glanced 
at  Alice,  who  immediately  repeated  a  form  of  prayer  for 
a  blessing  on  the  food.  The  children  had  evidently  been 
rightly  instructed. 

Occupied  with  her  meditations,  she  soon  found  herself 
at  home,  and  ran  to  seek  Uncle  Stephen  to  give  him  an 
act onnt  of  her  expenditures,  and  to  consult  him  with 
reference  to  her  new  proteges.  In  the  hall  she  met  Mrs. 
Stanley,  who  pleasantly  chid  her  for  her  long  absence, 
saying,  "  We  had  difficulty  in  restraining  Uncle  Stephen 
from  starting  in  search  of  you.  He  really  was  alarmed 
that  you  did  not  return  to  dinner,  and  said  he  wouldn't 
consent  again  to  your  going  among  thieves  and  robbers; 
there  was  no  knowing  what  harm  would  come  to  you." 

Alice  laughed  gayly,  and  invited  her  mother  to  accom- 
pany her  to  her  benefactors  room,  and  hear  an  account 
of  her  morning  adventures.  "  I  saw  Clarence,"  she 

17' 


198  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

whimpered,  as  they  went  up  the  stairs.  "  and  after  what 
passed  yesterday,  I  was  so  much  embarrassed  I  fear  I 
did  not  treat  him  very  politely." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  replied  her  mother,  "  for  he  knew  nothing 
of  the  conversation,  and  the  remarks  were  really  not 
worth  noticing." 

The  old  gentleman  was  so  much  interested  in  her  ac- 
count of  Dexter  and  Minnie,  that  he  replenished  her 
purse,  and  told  her  if,  on  inquiry,  the  boy  proved  to  be 
what  she  supposed,  he  would  be  responsible  for  the 
means  to  educate  him. 

Alice  was  so  delighted  that,  in  her  joy,  she  clapped 
her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  gave  him  a  hearty  kiss,  just 
as  she  used  to  do  when  a  little  girl. 

"  There,  child,"  he  said,  archly,  "  don't  waste  your 
kisses  on  an  old  man  like  me.  There  are  younger  ones, 
who  would  be  glad  enough  of  them." 

"  I  shall  give  my  kisses  to  whom  I  choose,"  answered 
Alice,  with  a  pretty  pout  on  her  lip ;  and  "  I  choose  to 
give  them  to  you,  and  Dr.  Jenks.  I  like  old  men  the 
best."  But  her  strict  regard  for  truth  compelled  her, 
though  reluctantly,  to  qualify  her  assertion,  and  she 
added,  "  that  is  —  of  course  "  —  when  a  merry  peal  of 
laughter  from  Uncle  Stephen  and  her  mother  entirely 
disconcerted  her. 

"  Why,  child,  it's  no  disgrace  to  tell  the  truth.  Don't 
look  so  very  rosy." 

"  Where  do  you  buy  your  wood,  Mr.  Stanley  ?  " 
asked  Alice,  an  hour  or  two  later,  when  they  were  alone 
in  the  parlor. 

"  That  is  rather  a  strange  question  from  you,  he  an- 


IN    DISGUISE.  199 

evvered,  pleasantly ;  "  but  I  will  tell  you,  on  condition 
that  you  confess  what  you  intend  to  do  with  it." 

"  Uncle  Stephen  has  become  interested  in  a  poor 
family ;  that  is,  /  have,  and  told  him  about  them.  He 
wishes  me  to  provide  everything  for  their  comfort.  I 
saw  this  morning  they  had  only  a  small  quantity  of 
brush  for  fuel,  and  I  don't  know  where  to  go  to  buy 
any." 

"  I  procure  mine  in  the  village.  At  this  season,  if  you 
go  early  enough,  you  will  almost  always  find  men  in  the 
square  with  wood,  both  oak  and  pine." 

"  I  suppose  oak  is  better." 

"  Not  exclusively ;  I  should  advise  you  to  get  dry 
pine,  for  a  part,  to  kindle  with.  Clarence  will  select  it 
for  you,  and  direct  the  man  where  to  carry  it." 

"  Will  you  please  ask  him  to  do  so  ?  It  is  to  be  carried 
into  Cedar  street,  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Hayden,  wife  of 
the  man  who  was  put  in  prison  lately.  I  will  write  the 
name  on  a  slip  of  paper." 

u  Are  you  sure  they  are  deserving  ?  I  fear  you  will  be 
liable  to  be  imposed  upon." 

"  Oh,  no,  sir ! "  exclaimed  Alice,  warmiy  ;  "  I  know 
these  are  deserving  people." 

Mr.  Stanley  smiled  as  he  glanced  at  the  enthusiastic 
creature  before  him,  and  said,  "  I  have  no  reason  to 
doubt  it ;  but  you  had  better  ask  Clarence  to  go  in  and 
see  them  himself,  and  inquire  about  them." 

"  I  should  like  to  have  him  inquire,  but  I  hardly  think 
it  would  do  to  have  him  call  at  present.  The  woman  is 
con  lined  to  the  bed,  and  beside  her,  there  are  only  two 
children  in  the  family."  As  she  went  on  describing  them, 


200  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

and  grew  warm  with  the  subject,  the  gentleman  started 
as  he  gazed,  —  there  was  something  in  her  whole  ap- 
pearance that  reminded  him  so  strongly  of  his  deceased 
wife. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  turning  away  with  a  sigh,  as  he 
thought  of  the  wide  difference  between  her  and  Edith, 
u  I  will  attend  to  it ; "  and  Alice  felt  that  she  was  re- 
lieved from  her  greatest  care.  She  could  go  to  the  store, 
and  order  flour  and  other  articles ;  but  she  had  been 
puzzled  how  to  obtain  the  wood. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening,  while  the  family  were 
sitting  around  the  table,  Mr.  Stanley  came  in  from  his 
study  and  said  to  Clarence :  "  Lest  I  should  forget  it  in 
the  morning,  here  is  a  small  item  of  business  for  you. 
Though  it  is  rather  out  of  your  line,  I  advised  Alice  to 
put  it  into  your  hands.''  He  read  from  the  memoran- 
lum  he  had  made :  "  Purchase  load  of  wood,  half  oak 
»r  maple,  and  half  pine,  and  send  it  according  to  the 
direction,"  —  passing  him  the  paper  on  which  she  had 
written  the  name. 

Clarence  took  it,  gravely,  without  even  glancing  at  her, 
and  said,  "  I  will  send  it  in  the  morning."  He  put  the 
direction  in  his  pocket-book,  and  resumed  his  reading. 

His  manner,  so  different  from  his  usual  cordiality,  ar- 
rested even  the  notice  of  Mr.  Stanley ;  but  supposing 
him  to  be  engrossed  with  his  book,  he  merely  added,  "  I 
feared  it  might  be  forgotten  in  the  morning,  and  the  pro- 
te'ge's  of  Alice  be  in  distress  for  the  want  of  it." 

Clarence  merely  bowed. 

Mrs.  Stanley  was  much  distressed,  and  feared  that 
Alice,  in  her  desire  to  avoid  Clarence,  had  seriously 


201 

offended  him,—  while  Uncle  Stephen  removed  the  glasses 
which  had  taken  the  place  formerly  monopolized  by  the 
goggles,  wiped  and  replaced  them  to  see  more  clearly 
what  had  come  over  his  ward.  But  the  object  of  his 
solicitude  seemed  wholly  intent  upon  the  page  before 
him,  until  Edith,  who  sat  next  him,  laughingly  asked, 
"  How  long,  Clarence,  are  you  going  to  read  upon  (hat 
one  page  ?  You  have  not  turned  over  a  leaf  for  the  last 
ten  minutes ;  the  author  must  be  very  profound." 

Not  even  this  sally  brought  a  smile  to  the  face  of  the 
young  man.  He  appeared  somewhat  annoyed,  but  did 
not  attempt  a  reply.  In  a  few  moments  he  closed  the 
book,  and  asked  Emma  to  give  him  some  music. 

She  complied  at  once  ;  played  and  sung  several  pieces 
as  he  called  for  them.  At  length  he  named  one  requiring 
another  voice,  and  she  requested  him  to  take  it ;  but  he 
bent  down  and  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "  Call  Alice."  Em- 
ma turned  upon  the  music  stool  to  do  so,  but  Alice  had 
left  the  room.  In  answer  to  her  inquiry  where  the  young 
girl  had  disappeared,  her  mother  answered,  "  She  left  the 
room  soon  after  you  went  to  the  piano." 

"  I  will  run  and  ask  her,"  said  Emma,  "  to  sing  this 
tune  with  me." 

"  I  think  she  has  retired,"  responded  her  mother;  "You 
had  better  ask  Gertrude." 

But  Gertrude  haughtily  refused,  and  the  music  was  dis- 
pensed with ;  and  soon  Clarence,  and  his  guardian,  left 
the  room. 

"  My  daughter,  why  did'n't  you  oblige  your  sister?" 
asked  Mrs.  Stanley,  kindly. 

"  If  I  were  in  her  place,  1  wouldn't  play  second   fiddle 


202  THE    HOUSEHOLD 

to  a  dependant  like  Alice,"  interrupted  Edith,  before 
Gertrude  had  time  to  reply. 

"  How  many  times  must  I  remind  you  that  she  is  not 
a  dependant.  Have  not  your  father  and  I  adopted  her 
for  our  own  ?  As  our  child,  she  has  as  much  claim 
upon  courtesy  and  kindness  as  yourself.  Uncle  Stephen 
would  gladly  adopt  her,  but  your  father  would  not  con- 
sent ;  not  only  from  a  regard  to  a  promise  he  made  your 
mother,  but  also  from  the  esteem  he  has  of  her  lovely 
character. 

"  It  don't  require  glasses  to  see  what  she  is  after,"  ex- 
claimed Edith,  passionately,  "  fawning  around  Uncle 
Stephen,  in  the  style  she  does.  She  expects  he  will 
make  her  his  heir." 

"  I  should  not  be  at  all  surprised  if  he  were  to  do  so," 
responded  Mrs.  Stanley,  with  much  dignity.  He  has  a 
right  to  do  as  he  pleases  with  his  money,  and  there  is  no 
one  he  loves  as  he  does  Alice.  But  you  know,  Edith, 
that  she  has  never  thought  of  his  doing  so." 

"  Sister  Edith,"  exclaimed  Emma,  with  feeling,  "  I 
don't  see  how  you  and  Gertrude  can  treat  Alice  so  un- 
kindly. I'm  sure  I  wish  every  day  1  were  only  half  as 
good  as  she  is." 

"  Gertrude  and  I  have  never  aspired  to  be  models," 
responded  Edith,  with  warmth  ;  and  here  the  conversa- 
tion dropped. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

"  Half  of  the  ills  we  hoard  within  our  hearts, 
Are  ills  because  we  hoard  them."  —  Proctor. 

WE  must  pass  over  a  period  of  several  weeks,  during 
which  Alice  divided  her  attention  between  the  families 
of  Mr.  Gates  and  Mrs.  Hayden.  She  usually  went  first 
to  read  for  an  hour  to  the  former,  who  had  become  so 
much  interested  that  he  manifested  great  impatience  if 
she  were  a  few  minutes  behind  her  usual  time.  But  she 
could  not  be  satisfied  that  any  permanent  result  followed 
from  her  reading.  If  she  attempted  to  converse  with 
him  upon  his  own  accountability  to  God,  or  on  his  du- 
ties to  his  family,  he  at  once  turned  off  to  other  subjects. 
She  had  of  late  chosen  devotional  reading,  and  closed 
every  interview  by  a  selection  from  the  book  of  Common 
Prayer  ;  and  now  that  he  was  well  enough  to  resume  his 
work,  she  could  do  nothing  more  for  his  salvation,  except 
to  commend  his  soul  to  God,  in  private.  His  wife  still 
continued  hopeful  of  his  conversion.  The  change  in  her 
was  very  marked,  and  exhibited  itself  in  her  softened 
manners,  as  well  as  in  the  principles  by  which  she  °ji- 
deavored  to  regulate  her  life. 

By  the  charity  of  Uncle  Stephen,  the  shop  in  which 
lie  formerly  worked  had  been  refitted  for  his  use ;  and  as 
he  exhibited  no  disposition  to  resume  his  idle  habits,  but 
on  the  contrary  often  said  he  shuddered  when  he  thought, 
how  he  had  stood  on  the  brink  of  ruin,  there  was  every 

203 


204  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

reason  to  hope  that  he  would  become  a  reformed  man, 
and  be  able  to  support  his  family  in  comfort. 

We  will  now  accompany  Alice  to  the  neatly-furnished 
home  of  Mrs.  Hayden,  where  Nurse  Green  is  fully  estab- 
Hshed.  Minnie  is  watching  at  the  window,  and  when 
she  hears  the  well-known  step,  shouts  joyfully,  "  Mamma, 
mamma,  dat  lady  come." 

After  a  kind  word  to  each,  the  visitor  devotes  herself 
for  a  full  half  hour  to  a  lively  play  with  her  little  friend, 
who,  by  her  artlessness  and  attractions,  has  woven  her- 
self closely  around  the  young  lady's  heart.  The  liveliness 
of  the  game  she  finds  the  best  medicine  for  the  afflicted 
mother,  by  drawing  her  thoughts  for  a  time  from  herself. 
She  thinks  she  has  never  seen  a  lovelier  object  than  Min- 
nie this  morning  presents.  Her  flaxen  ringlets  have  re- 
ceived additional  care,  in  anticipation  of  a  ride  she  is  to 
take  with  her  kind  benefactress. 

Alice  has  expressed  herself  so  enthusiastically  in  be- 
half of  her  children,  as  she  playfully  calls  Dexter  and 
Minnie,  that  the  family  at  Lindenwood  are  quite  impa- 
tient for  a  sight  of  them  ;  and,  as  this  is  Wednesday, 
when  Dexter  has  the  afternoon,  she  has  promised  to  carry 
them  there.  The  carriage  will  come  for  her  at  twelve 
o'clock,  so  that  she  is  only  waiting  for  school  to  be  done, 
in  :>rder  to  put  on  the  little  gypsy  hat  she  has  provided 
for  Minnie,  and  be  ready  to  start. 

While  she  is  waiting  I  will  say  a  few  words  about  the 
mother,  Nurse  Green,  and  Dr.  Jenks.  Mrs.  Hayden  is 
much  stronger  than  when  we  first  introduced  her  to  the 
reader,  and  is  able  to  sit  in  her  chair,  and  occupy  herself 
with  light  sewing,  a  great  part  of  the  day.  But  she  has 


IN    DISGUISE. 

a  bad  cough,  and  in  the  afternoon  a  bright,  hectic  (lush 
beautifies  her  cheeks,  giving  her  a  most  brilliant  appear- 
ance. Her  nights  are  restless,  and  her  sleep  nnrefresh- 
ing,  so  that  Nurse  Green  has  insisted  Minnie  should 
share  her  brother's  bed,  that  she  might  be  near  to  attend 
to  the  wants  of  her  patient.  Alice  has  been  able  to 
make  an  arrangement  with  the  good  woman,  which  is 
very  satisfactory  to  all  parties.  She  has  persuaded  her 
to  give  up  her  own  tenement,  and  to  remain  permanently 
with  Mrs.  Hayden,  until  her  husband's  term  of  one  year's 
imprisonment  has  expired. 

Mrs.  Stanley  and  a  number  of  other  ladies  who  have 
become  acquainted  with  the  case,  supply  them  with  sew- 
ing, so  that  they  need  not  feel  that  they  are  supported  by 
charity.  It  was  at  first  somewhat  difficult  to  restrain 
Uncle  Stephen,  who  would  have  had  the  nurse  devote 
her  entire  time  to  the  invalid ;  but  his  young  almoner 
assured  him  she  should  find  others  with  an  equal  claim 
upon  him,  and  she  knew  that  it  would  be  far  better  for 
fhem  to  maintain  their  independence. 

When  she  found  Mrs.  Hayden  was  likely  to  be  a  con- 
firmed invalid,  she  went  frankly  to  her  old  friend,  Dr. 
Jenks,  and,  after  telling  him  in  what  a  situation  she  had 
found  the  family,  asked  if  he  were  in  need  of  any  more 
gratuitous  practice. 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  replied  the  doctor,  smiling  at  the  arch 
way  she  put  the  question.  "  At  the  present  time  I  am 
much  in  need  of  patients.  Ever  since  your  old  friend 
Justin  Gates  gave  me  the  slip,  I  have  had  nothing  of  that 
kind  to  do.  Indeed,"  he  added,  with  mock  gravity,  "  thr^e 
18 


206  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

are  sad  times  for  a  physician  ;  there  is  an  alarming  de« 
gree  of  health  prevalent  through  the  town." 

"  But,  Doctor,"  said  Alice,  "  it  is  but  fair  to  inform  you 
that  she  will  be  likely  to  need  medical  advice  for  a  long 
time.  Not  often,  perhaps  not  for  several  weeks  together ; 
but  she  needs  a  physician  who  will  give  her  general 
directions  as  to  diet  and  exercise." 

«  Just  so.     Well,  Til  call.     Where  does  she  live  ?  " 

Alice  described  the  place,  and  gave  him  a  brief  account 
of  the  children. 

He  started  upon  his  feet,  and  exclaimed,  "  Mind  you, 
if  I  live  I'll  make  a  doctor  of  that  boy  !  I've  had  my 
eye  on  him  for  some  time.  He  puzzled  old  Deacon  Dane 
at  the  examination  of  the  academy.  Yes,  I  remember 
him.  He's  a  noble  fellow." 

And  now  the  carriage  has  come.  Minnie  is  dressed, 
and  they  are  only  waiting  for  Dexter  to  return  from 
school  before  they  drive  to  Lindenwood.  Alice  notices 
an  expression  of  anxiety  upon  the  mother's  countenance, 
and  says,  I  will  bring  them  back  safely." 

"  I  hope  they  will  behave  well,"  was  the  response. 
While  she  speaks,  the  outer  door  opens,  and  Dexter  en- 
ters, with  his  satchel  of  books.  He  quickly  places  them 
in  the  small  cupboard,  and  runs  to  make  a  slight  change 
in  his  dress.  He  is  absent  but  a  moment,  before  he  re- 
turns, kisses  his  mother,  whose  eye  rests  upon  him  with 
fond  affection  ;  then,  taking  Minnie  in  his  arms,  puts 
her  into  the  carriage,  and  they  drive  rapidly  away  from 
the  door.  Nurse  Green  shades  her  eyes  from  the  sun. 
and  watches  them  as  far  as  she  can  see. 

Alice  met  with  no  disappointment  in  the  opinion  ex 


IN     DISGl'ISK.  207 

pressed  by  her  friends  with  regard  to  her  little  favorites. 
Minnie  had  never  appeared  so  lovely  as  when  hiding  her 
face  under  the  deep  berthe  worn  by  her  friend,  or  nestling 
close  to  her  side,  while  the  curls  of  chestnut  brown, 
united  with  those  of  light  golden,  presented  a  pleasing 
contrast. 

Uncle  Stephen  was  almost  in  an  ecstasy,  when,  after 
refusing  to  leave  Alice  for  any  of  the  family,  Minnie  act- 
ually put  out  her  arms  to  him.  He  took  out  his  watch 
and  held  it  to  her  ear;  he  gave  her  all  the  peppermints 
and  cloves  he  could  find  in  his  pockets,  and  finally  told 
Alice  to  give  him  a  gold  eagle,  from  the  drawer,  which 
happened  to  have  a  hole  pierced  in  it.  This  he  attached 
by  a  chain  to  her  neck,  and  told  her  to  keep  it  to  remem- 
ber him  by. 

"  Her  fortune  is  made,"  said  a  clear  bass  voice  behind 
lirn,  and  looking  quickly  around,  they  saw  that  Clarence 
unobserved,  had  joined  the  group.  He  seemed  very 
much  amused,  and  as  he  took  the  hand  of  Dexter,  and 
inquired  for  his  mother,  his  voice  was  more  cheerful  than 
for  many  days.  Bat  as  soon  as  the  little  miss  saw  that 
a  stranger  was  added  to  the  company,  she  sprang  to  the 
floor,  and  almost  with  one  bound  jumped  into  Alice's 
embrace,  clasping  her  tightly  around  the  neck.  The 
cheeks  of  each  of  them  were  so  rosy,  their  eyes  so  bright, 
and  their  countenances  so  radiant  with  happiness,  that 
for  one  moment  all  stood  motionless,  gazing  at  the  beau- 
tiful tableau  before  them. 

"  Alice  !  "  exclaimed  Emma,  archly,  "  1  don't  believe 
but  you've  been  practising  attitudes  with  Minnie,  and 
that  \vas  why  you  wouldn't  bring  her  here  earlier." 


208 


THE  .HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 


Before  she  could  reply,  the  child,  as  if  she  fully  intend- 
ed to  heighten  the  color  of  her  kind  friend,  put  up  her 
sweet  lips  for  a  kiss,  saying  with  enthusiasm.  "  Minnie 
love  her  ;  Minnie  do  love  her,  and  Dexter  love  her,  too." 

At  that  moment  Mrs.  Stanley  met  Clarence's  eye,  and 
it  said,  as  plainly  as  eyes  can  speak,  "  and  Clarence  love 
her,  too." 

"  Minnie,  go  to  the  lady,"  rejoined  Alice,  wishing  to 
turn  the  attention  from  herself,  and  at  the  same  time 
holding  her  toward  Emma,  who  had  been  longing  to 
have  the  child  in  her  arms  ;  "  I  will  find  the  pretty  doll 
for  her,  I  promised."  She  was  glad  to  be  alone  to  still 
the  tumultuous  throbbing  of  her  heart.  "  He  has  for- 
given me !  "  she  exclaimed,  aloud,  when  locked  in  her 
own  room.  "  His  coldness  and  reserve  has  passed  away, 
and  he  does,  yes,  he  does  love  me  !  Oh,  I  am  too,  too 
happy !  What  delight,  to  be  loved  by  such  a  pure,  noble- 
hearted  man  !  "  She  pressed  her  hands  upon  her  heart, 
as  if  she  would  thus  keep  it  from  bursting  with  excess 
of  joy.  But  soon,  too  soon,  came  other  thoughts.  "  What 
if  I  have  mistaken  him  ?  What  if  it  were  only  Minnie 
he  gazed  at  so  fondly,  and  I  took  it  to  myself?"  She 
sighed  heavily.  "  Yes,  it  must  be  so.  Gertrude  says  he 
has  often  declared  his  affection  for  her,  and  he  would  not 
deceive.  No,  it  is  I  who  have  deceived  myself,  and  when 
I  thought  my  affection  for  him  was  almost  conquered." 
She  sank  upon  a  chair,  and  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands.  For  a  time  her  heart  was  torn  with  conflicting 
emotions,  as  she  reflected,  "  Gertrude  can  never  make 
him  happy.  Why  can  I  not  try  to  gain  his  love  ?  I  have 
often  doubted  of  late  whether  he  really  did  love  her.  Oh, 


IN    DISGUISE. 


I  would  not  value  any  sacrifice  as  too  great  to  enable  me 
to  contribute  to  hi*  happiness  !  " 

But  she  was  too  much  in  the  habit,  of  governing  her- 
self by  the  rule  of  right,  to  cherish  such  sentiments,  and 
she  sprang  upon  her  feet  with  bitter  self-reproach,  that 
such  thoughts  had  ever  found  their  way  into  her  mind. 
Making  great  effort  to  resume  her  cheerfulness,  she  took 
from  the  drawer  a  doll  she  had  rejuvenated  for  Minnie, 
and  carried  it  below. 

Mr.  Stanley  and  Uncle  Stephen  were  much  interested 
in  Dexter.  The  former  sat  by  his  side,  and  in  a  manner 
very  social  for  a  man  of  his  reserved  habits,  drew  the  lad 
into  conversation  upon  his  studies.  When  he  had  satis- 
fied himself  that  the  boy  had  uncommon  powers  of  mind, 
he  asked,  "  Do  you  wish  for  an  education  ?  " 

He  colored  deeply,  and  cast  down  his  eyes,  as  he 
thought  of  the  change  in  his  circumstances  ;  but,  with 
difficulty  repressing  his  emotion,  he  replied,  "  I  always 
used  to  wish  I  could  be  a  doctor,  but  now  I  suppose  I 
shall  go  to  a  trade." 

"  No,  you  sha'n't!  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Stephen,  kicking 
his  footstool  half  way  across  the  room,  "  that  is,  if  you 
still  prefer  doctoring." 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir !     I  prefer  that  to  everything." 

"  But  what  makes  you  think  you  should  like  to  be  cut- 
ting off  people's  limbs,  and  pulling  their  teeth  ?  Or  per- 
haps you  imagine  you  would  have  nothing  to  do  but  to 
ride  about,  make  pleasant  calls,  and  leave  your  jalap  and 
picra  for  somebody  else  to  mix." 

The  boy  laughed   heartily,  as  did   all  present,  at  the 
grotesque  faces  of  the  old  gentleman,  as  he  tried  to  rep 
.18* 


210  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

resent  the  duties  of  a  physician  in  the  most  unfavorable 
point  of  view ;  but  he  answered  earnestly,  though  very 
respectfully,  "  I  know,  sir,  doctors  do  not  live  an  easy 
life.  They  are  often  obliged  to  be  out  at  night,  am! 
to  do  much  that  is  disagreeable  ;  but  when  1  was  a  very 
small  boy  I  can  remember  that  I  used  to  envy  Dr.  Jenkn. 
as  the  greatest  man  in  the  world.  He  appeared  to  me  r.o 
know  everything;  and  I  have  seen,  since  I  have  grown 
older,  that  he  does  a  great  deal  of  good.  Then  every- 
body is  so  glad  to  see  a  doctor.  Mother  is  better  for  two 
or  three  days  after  every  visit  he  makes." 

"  Well,  my  boy,". responded  Uncle  Stephen,  his  bright 
eyes  twinkling  with  pleasure,  "  you  have  given  some  good 
reasons  for  your  choice  of  a  profession.  I  suppose  while 
we  live  in  this  wicked  world,  we  shall  always  be  obliged 
to  have  doctors  ;  so  set  your  heart  at  rest,  a  doctor  you 
shall  be." 

Dexter  did  not,  by  any  means,  appreciate  the  good  in- 
tentions of  the  gentleman;  but  he  thanked  him  for  his 
kind  interest,  and  then  the  conversation  turned  to  other 
subjects. 

At  an  early  hour  Alice  gave  Minnie  a  nice  bowl  of 
bread  and  milk,  and  having  received  from  Mrs.  Stanley 
a  basket  containing  cake  and  tarts,  for  the  invalid,  she 
returned  with  the  children  to  their  home.  Gertrude,  who 
had  an  errand  at  the  village,  accompanied  her.  She  was 
left  first,  and  directed  the  driver  to  call  for  her  on  his  re- 
turn, so  that  Alice  had  only  time  to  delight  Mrs.  Hayden 
by  her  account  of  the  good  conduct  of  Minnie,  and  to 
assure  her  that  both  she  and  Dexter  had  made  some 
warm  friends,  before  she  was  obliged  to  hurry  away. 


'N    DISGUISE.  21  I 

Just  as  they  reached  home,  Gertrude  said,  in  a  low 
voice,  "  Alice,  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  Clarence  sees 
through  your  designs,  and  despises  you  for  them.  You 
well  know  that  father  has  fixed  his  heart  upon  a  union 
between  Clarence  afid  one  of  his  daughters,  and  it  is 
very  ungrateful  for  you  to  set  yourself  up  in  the  way  you 
do  to  attract  his  attention.  When  father  raised  you  from 
poverty,  and  by  his  kindness  made  you  all  that  you  are, 
I  wonder  you  do  not  see  the  impropriety  of  your  conduct 
in  wholly  disregarding  his  wishes." 

The  profound  astonishment  of  Alice  kept  her  silent. 
Indeed,  her  lips  seemed  incapable  of  uttering  a  word ; 
and  as  they  had  now  reached  home,  and  the  coachman 
was  letting  down  the  steps,  there  was  no  farther  oppor- 
tunity to  do  so.  Clarence,  who  had  been  sitting  near 
the  window,  perceived  the  carriage  drive  up  the  avenue, 
and  hastened  to  the  door  to  assist  them  to  alight.  He 
almost  started  back,  as  Alice,  who  was  next  the  door, 
mechanically  put  her  hand  in  his,  as  she  descended  the 
steps.  Her  face  and  lips  were  perfectly  colorless,  while 
her  small  mouth  was  closely  shut,  as  if  she  were  in  great 
pain. 

"  You  arc  ill,  Alice  !  "  he  exclaimed,  with  great  tender- 
ness ;  but  she  turned  almost  rudely  from  him,  though  she 
was  obliged  to  catch  hold  of  the  door  to  save  herself  from 
falling.  For  an  instant  he  gazed  sadly  after  her,  and  then 
turned  to  give  his  arm  to  Gertrude,  who  received  him 
very  graciously,  and  whispered  a  few  words  in  his  car. 
Whatever  was  their  import,  they  only  made  him  more 
grave,  and  by  the  time  Alice  returned  to  the  parlor,  which 
she  did  not  for  an  hour  or  more,  he  had  assumed  an  ap- 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

pearance  of  sternness  entirely  foreign  to  his  character. 
She  had  only  reentered  the  parlor  at  the  request  of  her 
mother,  and  did  not  even  glance  at  the  young  man,  until 
Edith  touched  her  on  the  arm,  whispering,  "Just  see 
Clarence!  He  looks  like  a  cannibal,  and  as  if  he  were 
meditating  an  attack  upon  our  whole  party,  for  the  sake 
of  a  good  meal." 

Alice  merely  glanced  at  him,  and  then  bent  her  eyes 
upon  the  page  before  her.  That  glance,  however,  sufficed 
to  show  her  that  he  was  not  only  displeased,  but  suffer- 
ing. Her  heart  beat  quickly,  and  it  was  with  great  diffi- 
culty she  forced  herself  to  keep  her  seat,  and  appea)  cairn. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

"Affliction  is  the  wholesome  soil  of  virtue, 
Where  patience,  honor,  sweet  humanity, 
Calm  fortitude,  take  root,  and  strongly  flourish." 

Thompson. 

A  WEEK  after  the  visit  of  Dexter  and  Minnie  at  Lin- 
denvvood,  Alice  was  on  her  way  to  the  village,  when  she 
met  a  young  man  whom  she  had  formerly  known,  but 
whom  she  had  not  seen  for  many  years.  This  was  no 
other  than  a  son  of  Dr.  Jenks,  who  had  lately  returned 
from  sea.  He  was  extremely  cordial  in  his  manner  of 
meeting  her,  and  declared,  "  By  all  that's  sacred,  if  I'd 
even  suspected  how  handsome  you'd  grown,  I  couldn't 
have  rested  until  I  had  called  to  see  you." 

The  young  lady  was  very  much  annoyed  by  his  fa- 
miliarity, and  did  not  hesitate  to  reprove  him  for  what 
she,  in  her  conscientiousness,  considered  as  almost  an 
oath. 

"  Oh,  I  see  you  are  just  the  same  old  sixpence,"  he 
added,  gazing  passionately  in  her  face.  "  You've  given 

me  many  a  scolding,  but,  by There !  I  was  going 

to  offend  again.  You  see  I'm  provoked  that  I've  lost  so 
much  time  in  calling  upon  you.  I  never  dreamed  you'd 
be  such  a  beauty ;  but  I'll  call  very  soon." 

"  I  don't  think  that  it  would  be  convenient,"  answered 
Alice,  gravely.  "I  live  entirely  at  the  Hall,  now.  In- 
deed, Mrs.  Stanley  has  adopted  me  for  her  child,  though 

213 


214  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

my  own  mother  still  lives ; "  and  she  walked  very  fasts 
that  she  might  the  sooner  be  free  from  his  company. 
Finding  it  impossible  to  rid  herself  of  him,  she  covered 
her  face  with  her  veil,  and,  with  her  head  bent  down, 
hurried  on.  But  her  trials  were  not  yet  over,  for,  upon 
turning  the  corner  leading  into  the  street  where  Mrs. 
Hayden  lived,  she  almost  ran  into  the  arms  of  Clarence. 

Each  started  back  with  apologies  ;  but  Clarence's  lip 
curled  with  contempt  when  he  saw  who  was  her  com- 
panion. Even  when  she  reached  her  destination,  she 
feared  he  would  not  leave  her,  as  he  insisted  upon  wait- 
ing to  accompany  her  home.  But  she  told  him  she 
could  not  tell  when  she  should  return,  and,  when  she  did, 
she  preferred  going  alone  ;  and,  finding  he  could  gain  no 
favor  from  her,  he  determined  to  wait  another  oppor- 
tunity. 

Poor  Alice !  she  had  scarcely  entered  the  house,  and 
taken  a  seat,  before  she  burst  into  a  passionate  fit  of 
weeping.  Her  long  pent-up  emotions  broke  forth  with 
violence,  and  for  a  time  entirely  overwhelmed  her.  Mrs. 
Hayden  and  Minnie  looked  on  in  wonder,  and  shed 
many  sympathizing  tears,  while  Nurse  Green  untied  the 
strings  of  her  bonnet,  took  oft'  her  shawl,  saying,  in  a 
soothing  tone,  "There,  dear,  don't  cry  so.  What  can  it 
be  ?  Is  anybody  dead  ?  " 

The  poor  girl  could  make  no  reply,  but  sobbed  as  if 
her  heart  would  break. 

At  first  Minnie  was  frightened,  but  now  she  pushed  a 
chair  close  by  Alice,  climbed  up  into  it,  and  clasped  her 
neck,  lisping,  "  Don't  cry,  please  don't  cry ;  Minnie  do 
"ove  her  two  whole  barrels  full."  Then  she  took  nei 


IN    DISGI'ISK. 


apron,  and   tried   to  wipe   away  the  tears,  which   wt-ro 
pouring  like  rain  down  the  cheeks  of  li-er  dear  friend. 

The  affection  of  the  sweet  child  had  the  effect  to  draw 
her  thoughts  from  her  own  trials.  She  dried  her  eyes, 
and  expressed  her  regret  that  she  should  have  troubled 
them  with  her  grief.  "  I  believe/'  she  added,  with  a 
faint  attempt  to  smile,  "that  I  am  growing  nervous  wilh 
not  having  enough  to  do.  I  must  get  you,  Mrs.  Green, 
to  tell  me  of  some  families  where  they  need  assistance." 

If  Clarence  could  have  seen  the  expression  of  patient 
endurance,  as  it  then  showed  itself  upon  her  counte- 
nance, he  might  have  suspected  that  all  was  not  quite  as 
he  had  been  led  to  believe." 

"  I  hope,"  answered  the  good  nurse,  "  that  you  will 
continue  to  feel  so,  for  there  is  no  telling  what  a  comfort 
your  bright  face  and  cheerful  voice  carry  into  a  sick 
room,  to  say  nothing  of  all  else  you  do.  La,  now!  • 
she  continued,  growing  warm  with  the  subject,  which 
was  a  favorite  one,  "  I've  seen  many  people  come  in  to 
visit  an  invalid  with  such  a  gloomy  face,  they  were 
enough  to  frighten  one  to  death.  Now  to  my  mind 
that's  all  wrong.  Sick  persons  are  usually  nervous,  and 
a  good  deal  out  of  sorts,  and  it  does  them  no  manner  ol 
good  to  tell  over  all  their  aches  and  pains.  Why,  I've 
known  folks  that  meant  well,  only  they  didn't  under- 
stand human  nater,  talk  by  the  hour  together  of  the 
ino.st  horrid  sicknesses  and  nccidents,  telling  of  some- 
body who  had  the  same  complaint,  and  died  wilh  it,  and 
getting  the  patient  all  worked  up  inio  a  fever.  I  believe, 
if  people  would  be  cheerful,  and  talk  about  pleasing 
things,  as  you  do,  'twould  be  a  sight,  better." 


216  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"  i  am  afraid,"  replied  Alice,  "  that  my  visit  this  morn- 
ing has  not  cheered  your  patient," 

"There,  don't  now!"  said  the  warm-hearted  nurse, 
wiping  a  tear  from  her  eye  at  the  sadness  with  which 
the  young  lady  spoke;  "don't  go  to  thinking' I  alluded 
to  you  in  what  I  said,  for  I  never  thought  of  such  a 
thing." 

"  Have  you  received  a  letter  ?  "  inquired  Alice,  seeing 
an  open  envelope  lying  in  Mrs.  Hayden's  lap. 

"  Yes,  I  received  it  yesterday,"  was  the  reply.  "  Dex- 
ter brought  it  from  the  office  on  his  way  from  school. 
He  was  so  much  excited  about  it,  he  wanted  to  carry  it 
to  Lindenwood,  and  show  it  to  you ;  but.  I  persuaded 
him  to  wait  until  you  came.  Perhaps  you  would  prefer 
to  read  it  at  another  time,"  she  added,  taking  the  letter 
into  her  hand. 

"  Oh,  no !  I  will  read  it  now."  She  had  not  proceeded 
many  lines  before  she  was  convinced  who  was  the  writer, 
though  no  name  was  attached.  It  was  written  in  a 
hand  evidently  feigned,  and  was  as  follows  : 

"  To  Mrs.  Hayden  : 

Dear  Madam, —  Hearing  a  short  time  since  that  your 
son  Dexter  had  a  great  desire  to  acquire  an  education, 
and  that,  he  was  possessed  of  a  good  mind,  capable,  if 
rightly  improved,  of  becoming  a  useful  man,  and  having 
in  my  hands  a  fund  for  the  education  of  worthy  youth, 
I  propose  to  devote  such  a  part  of  it,  as  may  be  neces- 
sary, to  his  thorough  education.  Enclosed,  find  bills  to 
the  amount  of  fifty  dollars,  for  one  quarter's  expenses. 
You  will  receive  an  envelope  from  the  post-office,  con- 


IN    DISGUISE.  217 

taining  the  same  amount,  and  directed  to  yourself,  every 
three  months,  as  long  as  your  son  remains  deserving. 

Yours,  sincerely." 

While  Alice  was  reading,  her  companions  watched 
her  closely,  to  see  if  her  looks  confirmed  their  suspicions 
as  to  the  writer.  When  she  had  finished,  she  only  said, 
"  I  am  glad  Dexter  has  found  so  true  and  generous  a 
friend." 

"  La,  miss ! "  exclaimed  Nurse  Green,  who  was  by  no 
means  without  her  own  share  of  curiosity,  "  'tis  by  no 
means  likely  but  what  you've  read  it  before." 

"  Indeed,"  answered  Alice,  "  I  knew  nothing  of  it  until 
now." 

"And  ha'n't,  no  ideas  on  the  subject?"  inquired  the 
good  woman,  archly.  • 

"  Oh,  nurse,  don't  tease  Miss  Alice,"  interrupted  Mrs. 
Hayden,  before  she  had  time  to  reply.  "  It  is  very  plain 
to  me,  whoever  this  kind  friend  may  be,  he  wishes  to 
remain  unknown  to  us  ;  and  I  would  be  the  last  one  to 
try  to  find  him  out.  Only  I  thought,  as  I  lay  awake  in 
the  night,  'twould  be  a  relief  if  I  could  let  him  know 
what  a  burden  he's  lifted  off  my  heart  with  regard  to 
my  boy.  For  years  I  have  tried  to  keep  up  and  make 
the  best  of  everything  for  his  sake.  I  suppose  I  may  be 
called  partial  and  blind  to  his  faults;  but  he  has  been 
everything  to  me.  When  pressed  to  the  earth  with 
sorrow,  that  child  has  talked  with  me,  and  pointed  me 
to  God,  who  could  bring  good  out  of  evil.  I  have  often 
ceased  weeping;  to  gaze  at  him  in  wonder  that  such 
words  could  come  from  the  mouth  of  a  child  ;  and  now, 
19 


218  THE    HOUSEHOLD    AN'GEL 

when  I  am  gradually  wasting  away,  and  remember  that 
he  and  Minnie  will  soon  have  no  mother  to  watch  over 
them,  God  only  knows  what  a  relief  it  is  to  me  to  feel 
thai  he  has  put  it  into  the  heart  of  some  kind  friend  to 
feei  an  interest  for  him,  and  provide  so  nobly  for  his 
wants." 

Alice  had  never  before  heard  Mrs.  Hayden  make  any 
allusion  to  her  own  declining  health,  and  was  much 
affected  by  the  calmness  with  which  the  invalid  was 
enabled  to  look  forward  to  a  change  of  woilds. 

"  For  their  sake,"  resumed  the  mother,  "  I  have  prayed 
to  be  spared  yet  a  little  longer ;  for  though,  in  one  sense, 
I  can  do  nothing  for  them,  and,  indeed,  am  only  a  care, 
yet  I  hope  to  impress  upon  the  mind  of  my  little  Minnie, 
as  well  as  her  brother,  the  love  of  truth  —  the  desire  to 
do  right,  let- what  will  corne,  and  then  to  leave  the  event 
with  God.  Night  after  night  I  spend  in  prayer  for  tnem, 
and  for  — "  She  checked  herself,  and  then  continued: 
"  Sometimes  I  feel  perfectly  willing  to  give  them  up, 
and  am  confident  that  God  will  watch  over  them,  and 
preserve  them  from  sin,  and  bring  them  safely  home  to 
heaven.  But  then,  again,  Satan  puts  doubts  into  my 
mind,  and  I  remember  that  they  will  probably  be  liable 
to  great  and  peculiar  temptations.  J  lose  my  hold  on 
God's  promises,  and  am  overwhelmed  with  distress. 
When  that  letter  came,  I  viewed  it  as  a  sign  of  my 
heavenly  Father's  favor,  sent  to  convince  me  that  he 
could  take  care  of  my  children  ;  and  I  was  enabled  to 
give  them  up  into  his  hands.  After  that  he  granted  me 
delightful  views  of  himself.  His  love  'for  sinners,  his 
desire  that  the  most  abandoned  should  turn  to  him  and 


IN   DISGUISE  219 

live,  appeared  plainer  to  me  than  ever  before  and  I  was 
enabled,  with  earnest  faith  in  his  promises,  to  plead  not 
only  for  them,  but  for  one  nearly  allied  to  them." 

It  was  very  unusual  for  Mrs.  Hayden  to  speak  of  her- 
self;  indeed,  there  was  a  sensitiveness,  and  a  shrinking 
from  all  subjects  connected  with  her  own  peculiar  trials, 
which  had  always  restrained  her  young  friend  from 
making  the  most  distant  allusion  to  them.  But  the 
generous  offer  contained  in  the  letter  opened  her  heart, 
and  caused  this  burst  of  feeling.  Alice  hid  her  face 
behind  Minnie,  \vhom  she  held  in  her  arms,  to  hide  the 
emotion  she  could  not  suppress,  and  soon  after  rose  to 
take  her  leave. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

"  Forbear  sharp  speeches  to  her.  She's  a  lady 
So  tender  of  rebukes,  that  words  are  strokes. 
And  strokes  death  to  her."  —  Shakspeare. 

MAURICE  JENKS  was  the  only  son  of  the  good  doctor, 
and  the  only  child  with  the  exception  of  a  daughter, 
who  was  married,  and  lived  in  the  West. 

When  a  child,  Alice  was  acquainted  with  him.  They 
attended  school  together,  and  many  times  had  he  drawn 
her  home  upon  his  sled,  or  seated  her  upon  the  back  of 
it  while  he  coasted  down  hill.  In  this  way,  he  had 
become  acquainted  with  Louis,  who  was  not  abl#  to 
attend  school,  but  who  extended  a  cordial  welcome  to 
the  boy  who  was  so  kind  to  his  beloved  friend,  and  who 
also  brought  him  whistles  and  other  toys  of  his  own 
manufacture. 

Maurice  was  a  frank,  open-hearted  boy,  and  on  ac- 
count of  his  generous,  obliging  temper,  as  well  as  for  his 
father's  sake,  he  was  a  general  favorite.  From  his  ear- 
liest childhood  he  evinced  a  passion  for  the  sea,  and, 
when  not  more  than  eight  years  old,  would  spend  hours 
in  the  manufacture  of  a  miniature  vessel,  and  in  reading 
with  absorbing  interest  any  book  connected  with  his 
favorite  subject. 

About  the  time  Emma  and  Edith  first  left  home  for 
school  in  F ,  and  when  he  was  in  his  fifteenth  year 

he  announced  to  his  parents  that  he  was  going  to  New 
220 


TIIF.    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL    IN    DISGUISE.  22\ 

York  to  become  a  sailor.  They  were  very  decided  in 
refusing  their  consent;  bat,  as  they  had  always  been 
excessively  indulgent,  and  had  heretofore  allowed  him  to 
do  pretty  much  as  he  chose,  he  did  not  for  a  moment 
give  up  his  plan  on  that  account,  but,  taking  advantage 
one  night  of  his  father's  absence,  he  absconded  from 
home  with  only  a  small  bundle  of  clothes  under  his  arm. 
and  two  dollars  of  money  in  his  pocket.  Before  hi? 
flight  was  discovered,  he  was  far  on  his  way,  and,  on 
reaching  New  York,  found  a  vessel  on  the  point  of  sail- 
ing for  the  East  Indies,  and  the  captain  very  willing  to 
take  a  smart,  active  lad,  as  he  appeared  to  be. 

For  a  few  hours  he  considered  himself  fortunate  in 
escaping  so  easily  from  home,  and  entering  upon  the 
pursuit  which  had  for  years  been  the  subject  of  his 
thoughts  by  day  and  his  dreams  by  night.  But,  when 
the  vessel  was  fairly  out  at  sea,  and  the  swell  of  the 
billows  began  to  have  their  usual  effect,  he  crept  aft, 
away  from  the  rough  tars,  who  only  laughed  at  his  dis- 
tress, and  there,  hiding  behind  a  coil  of  rope,  he  laid 
himself  down,  and  almost  wished  to  die. 

Poor  boy!  Now,  for  the  first  time,  he  began  to  real- 
i/e  the  change  in  his  situation,  and  to  see  his  folly  and 
ingratitude  in  having  left  his  parents  and  his  home. 
Oh,  how  he  longed  for  one  word  of  forgiveness  from 
them!  how  he  yearned  for  his  mother  to  put  her  hand 
on  his  aching  head!  The  bitter  thought  of  the  pain 
and  anxiety  he  had  caused  them,  and  which  they  must 
endure  for  years,  entirely  overwhelmed  him  with  remorse, 
and  he  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  cried  aloud. 
For  the  next  two  days,  he  was  so  seasick  and  homesick 
19* 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

that  ':e  could  not  stand  ;  and,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
kindness  of  one  of  the  sailors,  he  would  have  suffered 
severely. 

This  honest  fellow  took  compassion  on  him,  and  ear- 
ned him  below,  conveyed  his  food  to  the  hammock 
where  he  lay,  talked  cheerfully  with  him,  and  adminis- 
tered to  his  necessities  with  the  tenderness  of  a  brother, 
until  he  was  able  to  be  about  the  ship. 

For  a  long  time  after  it  was  ascertained  that  Maurice 
had  sailed  for  India,  Mrs.  Jenks  was  inconsolable.  The 
doctor  had  followed  the  runaway  to  New  York,  and 
there  found  that  a  boy  answering  exactly  to  the  descrip- 
tion of  his  son  had  taken  a  berth  on  board  a  ship  ready 
for  sea. 

The  mother  and  father  severely  reproached  themselves 
for  not  having  given  their  consent ;  and  then  he  might 
have  been  well  fitted  out  for  his  long  voyage.  Now  she 
was  sure  he  would  take  cold,  be  sick,  and  die. 

But  when,  at  the  end  of  a  year  and  a  half,  he  came 
bounding  into  the  kitchen,  and  put  his  arms  about  his 
mother's  neck,  kissing  her  again  and  again  as  he  begged 
her  to  forgive  him  for  leaving  home,  she  only  stopped  for 
one  long  gaze,  to  be  sure  that  the  tall,  bronzed  youth 
taking  such  liberties  with  her  was  her  own  lost  son, 
before  she  caught  him 'in  her  arms,  wholly  unmindful  of 
Die  prints  of  flour  and  paste  she  was  leaving  on  his  new 
sailor  round-about.  Nor  until  an  hour  after,  when  she 
was  seated  with  him  in  the  small  south  parlor,  where  we 
first  introduced  her  to  the  reader,  did  she  remember  that 
her  oven  must  have  grown  cold,  and  that  her  bread  and 
pies  were  still  upon  the  table. 


IN    DISGUISE.  223 

Toward  nooi>,  when  the  doctor  returned  home,  Mau- 
rice showed  that  he  was  still  the  same  mirth-loving  boy 
as  of  old;  for  no  sooner  did  he  hear  his  father's  buggy 
come  driving  into  the  yard  than  he  caught  his  cap,  and 
darled  behind  the  door;  and,  though  his  mother  was 
fearful  it  would  be  too  sudden  for  his  doating  father,  yet 
she  could  not  reprove  her  son  when  he  had  just  returned 
home. 

So  the  good  doctor  had  an  equal  surprise  with  his 
wife ;  for,  when  he  had  seated  himself,  and  taken  a  paper 
from  his  hat  to  read  until  dinner  was  ready,  a  voice  from 
behind  him  whispered,  "  Father  !  " 

He  started  from  his  chair,  gazed  around  him,  and, 
seeing  no  one,  said,  quickly,  "  Mother,  did  you  hear 
that  ?  If  our  boy  was  at  home,  I  should  say  that  was 
his  voice." 

"  Father,  dear  father  !  "  said  the  voice  again. 

The  now  excited  father  sprang  to  the  closet,  threw 
back  the  door,  and  his  son  leaped  into  his  arms. 

Finding  that  he  was  in  no  way  weary  of  the  life  he 
had  chosen,  and  that  he  had  brought  letters  of  good  con- 
duct from  his  captain,  his  parents  wisely  concluded  to 
allow  him  to  follow  his  inclination,  and  make  another 
voyage.  During  this  visit,  he  went  to  Lindenwood,  and 
carried  his  father's  little  patient  a  beautiful  model  of  a 
schooner  he  Ir.id  made  on  board  ship.  Since  that  time 
tley  hud  never  seen  him,  but  Alice  had  heard  with  sor- 
row that  of  late  he  had  so  conducted  himself  as  to  be  a 
great  grief  to  his  worthy  parents  ;w  and,  when  she  met 
him  so  unexpectedly  in  the  street,  his  manner  was  so 
familiar,  and  even  rude,  that  she  determined  to  avoid 


224  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

him  in  future,  though,  for  the  sake  of  his  good  father 
she  would  have  been  glad  to  treat  him  kindly. 

Maurice  had  now  grown  to  the  size  of  a  man.  His 
visit  to  tropical  climates  had  bronzed  his  cheeks,  but 
his  exercise  on  board  ship  had  made  his  frame  supple 
and  elastic,  and  altogether  he  was  in  appearance  a  noble 
specimen  of  an  American  sailor. 

His  mother  wept  at  home  as  she  thought  that  all  his 
noble  qualities  should  be  shadowed  by  the  vices  which 
are,  alas !  too  common  among  the  sons  of  Neptune.  But 
his  father  believed  there  was  a  God  in  heaven,  who 
would  answer  his  earnest  prayers  for  the  salvation  of  his 
child.  Morning  and  evening  he  was  borne  in  the  arms 
of  faith  to  the  family  altar,  and  often,  in  his  solitary 
midnight  rides,  the  distance  was  shortened  by  the  fervor 
of  the  good  father's  appeals  in  behalf  of  his  erring  son. 

Alice  had  seldom  been  so  oppressed  with  sadness  as 
when  she  left  the  cottage  of  Mrs.  Hayden,  and  started 
for  home.  Though  the  sun  was  now  high  in  the  heavens, 
and  was  shining  in  full  splendor,  yet  to  her  everything 
appeared  dark  and  gloomy.  She  was  not  superstitious  ; 
yet  she  had  a  sense  of  coming  ill  which  she  could  not 
throw  off.  In  addition  to  her  secret  trial  of  struggling 
against  her  affection  for  Clarence,  and  the  unkindness 
of  Edith  and  Gertrude,  she  had  for  some  time  been 
anxious  about  her  mother,  whose  insanity  seemed  taking 
a  new  turn.  At  times  she  appeared  wholly  weaned 
from  her  child,  and  had  even  forbidden  the  title  of 
mother.  "  You  belong  to  them  now  who  adopted  you," 
she  would  urge  ;  "  and  why  do  you  come  here  troubling 
me  ? "  But  if,  in  obedience  to  her  command,  Alice 


IN    DISGUISE.  225 

refrained  from  visiting  her,  she  was  extremely  jealous, 
and  thought  it  hard  her  only  child  couldn't  remain  with 
hfr  mother. 

Alice  often  determined  to  leave  the  Hall,  and  devote 
herself  exclusively  to  the  poor  lunatic ;  but  to  this  plan 
neither  she,  nor  the  young  girl's  friends,  would  consent, 
as  the  presence  of  her  child,  for  any  length  of  time,  inva- 
riably made  her  worse. 

Mrs.  Carey  had  always  been  considered  harmless,  and 
wandered  about  wherever  she  pleased.  Of  late  she  had 
come  to  the  Hall  much  oftener  than  usual.  She  would 
walk  noiselessly  through  the  spacious  rooms,  glancing 
into  every  apartment,  until  she  found  her  child,  and  as- 
certained how  she  was  employed,  when  she  generally 
withdrew  quietly,  and  returned  home.  Only  a  few  days 
before  this,  she  came  in,  and  found  Alice  reading  in  the 
bow-window,  and,  unperceived  by  all  but  Edith,  who  was 
near  the  door,  was  gliding  away,  when  the  haughty  girl 
exclaimed,  "  I  wish  father  would  have  that  woman  shut 
up !  It's  enough  to  frighten  one  to  death  to  see  her 
ghastly  face  come  up  before  you  so  unexpectedly.  1  de- 
clare, Alice,  if  I  were  you,  I  believe  I  should  die  of  mor- 
tification !  " 

Alice  stood  up,  her  eyes  flashing  with  indignation  at 
this  unfeeling  attack,  and  was  about  to  speak  sharply, 
when  the  weird  woman  suddenly  returned,  and  with  a 
commanding  gesture  motioned  her  to  be  seated.  She 
then  advanced  toward  Edith,  with  a  wildness  in  her  eye 
which  really  frightened  all  present,  and  standing  full  be 
fore  her,  hissed  through  her  teeth,  "  Beware,  the  hour  of 
retribution  is  at  hand  !  " 


226  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

The  rich  bloom  upon  Edith's  countenance  faded  in- 
stantly as  these  prophetic  words  met  her  ear  ;  but,  with 
a  contemptuous,  "  Pshaw,  none  of  your  croaking  here," 
she  turned  to  the  window,  and  the  poor,  insane  creature^ 
left  the  apartment. 

As  the  mind  of  Alice  recurred  to  this  and  other  late 
scenes,  it  was  with  great  difficulty  she  overcame  the  feel- 
ings of  utter  despondence  which  threatened  to  sink  her ; 
indeed,  she  already  perceived  the  unfavorable  effect  upon 
her  health  of  her  inward  conflict.  Yet  no  member  of  the 
family  suspected  how  severely  she  suffered.  Mrs.  Stan- 
ley, indeed,  noticed  that  at  times  she  was  pale  and  care- 
worn, and  feared  there  was  a  misunderstanding  between 
her  and  Clarence ;  but  as  her  adopted  child  made  an  ef- 
fort to  be  cheerful  in  her  presence,  she  was  far  from  being 
aware  of  the  true  state  of  her  health  and  spirits. 

On  reaching  home  the  poor  girl  felt  so  ill,  that  she 
went  at  once  to  her  own  room,  and,  locking  the  door, 
threw  herself  upon  her  bed.  As  she  had  met  no  one,  the 
family  did  not  know  she  had  returned,  and,  excepting  the 
ringing  of  the  bell,  there  was  no  summons  for  her  to  din- 
ner. It  was,  therefore,  late  in  the  afternoon  when  she 
awoke  from  a  heavy  sleep,  or  rather  when  she  was  awakr 
ened  by  the  loud  slamming  of  the  door  below,  and  a 
heavy  footstep  coming  up  the  stairs.  As  she  heard  him 
kick  along  the  chcJrs  in  his  room,  she  recogni/ed  the 
sound  as  coming  from  Uncle  Stephen,  and  wondered 
what  had  occurred  to  irritate  him.  But  she  soon  ceased 
to  think  of  him,  as  her  throbbing  temples  warned  her  to 
fall  back  upon  her  pillow.  After  lying  awhile,  with  her 
hands  pressed  tightly  to  her  brow,  she  arose  and  bathed 


IN    DISGUISE.  227 

it  freely  with  cold  water.  She  then  prepared  to  go  be- 
low, as  she  suddenly  remembered  that  she  had  seen  none 
of  the  family  since  her  return  from  the  village.  Passing 
through  the  hall,  she  heard  her  mother's  voice  in  the 
kitchen,  and  went  in  there  to  see  her.  Mrs.  Carey  evinced 
unusual  anxiety  for  her  child,  and  prevailed  upon  her  to 
wait  until  she  could  make  her  a  cup  of  sage  tea.  Emma 
soon  came  in,  and  expressed  much  surprise  at  finding  she 
had  returned.  After  Alice  had  taken  the  tea,  she  returned 
with  Emma  to  the  parlor,  where  the  family  were  assem- 
bled, waiting  to  be  called  to  supper.  She  took  a  seat 
near  Mrs.  Stanley,  wondering  as  she  did  so  at  the  cause 
of  their  unusual  constraint  and  silence  ;  but  merely  say- 
ing, "  I  have  taken  a  long  nap,  and  did  not  hear  the  din- 
ner bell." 

"  I  thought  you  still  absent,  my  dear,"  answered  the 
lady,  with  a  slight  gravity  in  her  manner.  "  I  think  I 
must  break  up  this  habit  of  yours,  of  running  away 
every  day.  You  are  getting  to  be  quite  too  dissipated," 
and  she  glanced,  with  an  expression  of  sadness,  at  hei 
child. 

"  Oh.  please  don't,  mamma  !  "  urged  Alice.  "  It  would 
really  make  me  wretched  to  be  deprived  of  going  to  see 
my  poor  families  ;  and  I'm  sure  it  can  do  me  no  harm." 

"  Come  here,  child  !  "  called  Uncle  Stephen,  in  a  tone 
so  different  from  the  one  in  which  he  had  heretofore  ad- 
dressed her,  that  the  color  rushed  to  her  face,  and  made 
her  head  throb  painfully  ;  but  she  instantly  obeyed,  ad- 
vanced, and  stood  before  him,  while  all  present  were  im- 
patiently waiting  for  what  would  follow.  Trying  to  con- 


228  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

trol  his  feelings,  the  excited  man  asked,  sharply,  "  Whal 
do  you  mean,  child,  by  such  shameful  conduct  ?  " 

Her  quick  start  and  glance  of  surprise  around  the 
room,  affected  him,  and  he  continued,  in  a  softened  voice, 
"  Oh,  Alice  !  how  could  you  break  my  heart  ?  how  coiiid 
you  deceive  me  so  cruelly  ?  "  and  he  began  to  sob. 

"  How  have  I  offended  ?  "  asked  the  bewildered  girl, 
starting  toward  him  ;  but  he  waved  her  off. 

"  How  ?  Oh,  that's  worse  than  all  the  rest !  Come, 
child,  it  isn't  too  late  now.  Confess  all,  and  I'll  forgive 
you,  and  do  my  part  to  make  it  all  right  with  your 
friends." 

Alice  put  her  hand  to  her  head.  The  excitement  al- 
most deprived  her  of  sight. 

"  Come,  speak  !  "  urged  Uncle  Stephen,  impatiently. 

She  shook  her  head ;  there  was  a  ringing  sound  in  her 
ears. 

"  No  ?  Well,  inen,  I  must  speak  for  you.  You've 
deceived  us  all.  You've  made  a  cloak  of  your  piety,  to 
carry  on  a  disgraceful  flirtation  with  that  young  scape- 
grace, Jenks.  And  I  wouldn't  believe  it.  I  scorned  the 
idea,  as  unworthy  of  you,  until  Clarence  assured  me 
'twas  too  true  ;  that  he  met  you  in  his  company,  and  that 
your  evident  confusion  convinced  him  it  was  even  as  we 
had  heard." 

Alice  stood  as  if  petrified,  until  he  spoke  of  Clarence, 
when,  with  a  suppressed  moan,  she  fell  senseless  to  the 
floor. 

Instantly  all  was  confusion.  Clarence  started  forward 
to  raise  her;  but,  with  a  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling, 
Mr.  Stanley  haughtily  motioned  him  back,  and  requested 


IN    DISGUISE.  229 

all  but  her  mother  to  leave  the  room.  He  then  gently 
lifted  her  from  the  floor,  and  laid  her  upon  the  sofa,  when 
they  used  every  effort  to  restore  her  to  consciousness. 
But  for  a  long  time  the  poor  girl  lay  in  a  deep  swoon,* 
until,  becoming  alarmed,  Mr.  Stanley  rang  {he  bell  to 
order  a  servant  to  go  for  the  doctor.  Just  as  he  hurriedly 
entered,  Mrs.  Stanley  perceived  a  slight  motion  of  the 
breast,  and  soon  the  innocent  sufferer  slowly  opened  her 
eyes,  and  gazed  wonderingly  about  her. 

The  lady  presented  the  salts,  as  her  husband  whispered 
to  her,  "  Clarence  is  unreasonably  prejudiced.  He  spoke 
too  bitterly." 

"  Not  for  one  instant  have  J  believed  this  story,"  she 
replied,  earnestly,  though  in  the  same  low  tone.  "  She 
will  be  able  to  explain  all;  but  I  can  hardly  forgive  Clar- 
ence." 

"  What  has  happened,  Mamma  ?  "  feebly  asked  Alice, 
making  an  effort  to  raise  herself  from  the  pillow. 

"  You  fainted,  my  dear.  Rest  quietly  awhile,  and  I  will 
tell  you  all.  I  must  go  now,  and  prepare  you  a  cordial." 

•'  No,  Mamma,  I  have  had  a  very  bad  headache  to-day, 
and  would  prefer  not  taking  anything;  but  have  you  been 
to  tea?  Don't  let  me  detain  you  ;  I  am  quite  relieved." 

"  Well,  my  dear,  1  shall  be  gone  but  a  few  moments, 
and  Emma  will  remain  with  you." 

There  was  very  little  eaten  at  supper  that  night.  Uncle 
Stephen  was  out  of  humor  with  everybody,  but  particu- 
larly with  himself.  "  After  all,"  le  muttered,  "if  they're 
all  against  her,  and  even  Clarence  has  joined  in  the  ill 
treatment,  1  here's  the  more  reason  for  me  to  stand  by  her, 
poor  thing.  She's  been  abused,  that's  my  opinion." 
20 


230  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

No  one  replied,  but  the  countenance  of  his  ward 
showed  that  he  was  far  from  insensible. 

Immediately  after  family  prayer,  during  which  Alice 
tav  upon  the  sofa,  with  her  face  concealed  by  her  hand- 
kerchief, Emma  noticed  that  Edith  motioned  to  Ger- 
trude to  accompany  her  up  stairs,  and  she  followed  them, 
intending  to  go  to  her  own  room,  when  she  overheard  the 
following.  "  We've  got  ourselves  into  a  pretty  scrape. 
I'm  sorry  1  ever  had  anything  to  do  with  it,  and  now  I've 
a  great  mind  to  tell  mother  that  the  poor  thing  is  entirely 
innocent." 

"  If  you  do,"  replied  Gertrude,  angrily,  "  I'll  never  for- 
give you." 

As  soon  as  she  found  an  opportunity,  Emma  whis- 
pered to  her  mother  a  request  to  see  her  as  soon  as  she 
could  leave  the  room  unnoticed.  Alice  lay  as  if  asleep, 
and  Mrs.  Stanley  arose  and  followed  her  daughter.  The 
motion  of  shutting  the  door  caused  the  poor  girl  to  open 
her  eyes,  and  Clarence,  observing  it,  advanced  hastily  to 
her  side.  But  the  remembrance  of  his  cruel  insinuations 
was  too  fresh  in  her  mind  to  enable  her  to  speak  calmly 
and  she  turned  quickly  away.  He  stood  for  one  moment, 
hesitating  whether  to  address  her,  and  then  withdrew 
from  her  side,  when,  thinking  herself  alone,  with  a  burst 
of  feeling  she  exclaimed,  "  Cruel  Clarence !  And  even 
my  kind  friend,  Uncle  Stephen,  has  turned  against  me. 
Oh,  my  heavenly  Father,  comfort  my  poor  heart,  and 
give  me  strength  to  bear  every  trial  thou  seest  fit  to  send. 
And  oh,  forgive  those  who  are  trying  to  injure  me  !  " 

The  young  man  could  endure  it  no  longer;  suppos- 
ing she  referred  to  himself,  he  silently  left  the  room, 


IN    DISGUISE.  231 

caught  his  hat  from  the  rack,  and  wandered  away  at  a 
rapid  speed. 

Uncle  Stephen  was  in  his  own  room,  where,  with  no 
other  light  but  the  mild  rays  of  the  moon,  he  sat  indulg- 
ing IT  the  most  bitter  self-reproach.  His  ill  humor  had 
entirely  subsided,  and  he  could  only  regret  his  late  con- 
duct toward  one, he  so  dearly  loved.  Deep  in  his  heart 
there  was  a  hard  feeling  toward  Clarence,  for  leading 
nun  to  such  a  course.  At  length  a  low  tap  at  the  door 
arrer  ted  his  attention,  and,  in  answer  to  his  sad  "  come 
in,"  Mrs.  Stanley  entered,  and  seated  herself  at  his  side. 
"  I~f  3ar,"  she  said,  with  some  hesitation  at  commencing 
the  conversation,  "  that  we  have  censured  Alice  without 
rea?  an." 

"  I  know  it ! "  he  exclaimed,  quickly,  "  and  hate  my- 
self for  it.  'Twas  all  the  effect  of  my  horrid  temper." 

"  Not  all"  answered  the  lady.  She  then  repeated  to 
him  what  she  had  heard  from  Emma.  "  I  would  not 
allow  Alice,"  she  continued,  to  explain  to-night,  as  she 
wished  to  do.  I  saw  she  wras  not  able  to  endure  the  ex- 
citement ;  but  I  am  convinced  there  is  no  truth  in  Edith's 
story  of  her  love  for  the  young  man.  No  doubt  she  will 
explain  the  occasion  of  her  being  with  him,  to  our  satis- 
faction. 

"  Humph,"  muttered  the  old  gentleman,  abstractedly  ; 
"  wish  I'd  never  left  off  my  speaking  trumpet." 

Astonished  at  his  calmness,  when  she  expected  an  ex- 
plosion of  indignation,  Mrs.  Stanley  left  him,  and  soon 
assisted  Alice  to  bed. 

It  was  not  until  a  late  hour  that  Clarence  returned  to 
the  hall ;  but  Mrs.  Stanley  was  waiting  for  him,  as  she 


232  THH    HOUSKHOLD    ANGEL. 

wished  to  repeat  to  him  what  she  hajd  done  to  his  guard- 
ian. "  Whatever  may  be  your  feelings,  with  regard  to  the 
poor  girl,"  she  added,  with  some  bitterness,  "justice  to 
her  demands  that  you  should  know  there  has  been  an 
endeavor  to  ruin  her  character.  Her  persecutors,  far  more 
than  she,  are  objects  of  pity,  for  I  firmly  believe  that  she 
will  come  from  this  trial  with  a  character  that  will  shine 
brighter  than  ever." 

If  she  could  have  known  the  tumult  of  feeling  occa- 
sioned in  the  heart  of  her  companion  by  this  statement, 
and  the  difficulty  with  which  he  found  voice  to  respond 
with  the*  simple  word  "  amen,"  she  would  have  left  him 
with  far  different  feelings  ;  when  he,  thankful  that  the 
dimly  lighted  hall  enabled  him  to  conceal  his  emotions, 
hastily  sought  his  own  room.  His  guardian  still  occu- 
pied a  chair  by  the  window,  and,  not  receiving  an  answer 
to  his  good  night,  he  shut  himself  up  in  his  bed-room, 
for  the  first  time  within  his  remembrance  with  the  seri- 
ous displeasure  of  his  kind  benefactor  resting  upon  him. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

Better  confide,  and  be  deceiv'd 

A  thousand  times  by  treacherous  foes, 

Than  once  accuse  the  innocent, 

Or  let  suspicion  mar  reposeT—  Mrs.  Osgood. 

POOR  Uncle  Stephen!  His  thoughts,  during  that  long 
night,  did  not  serve  to  render  him  more  cheerful.  As  he 
called  to  mind  the  earnest,  piety  of  Alice  from  a  little 
child,  and  thought  of  the  artlessness  and  purity  which 
had  developed  more  and  more  every  year,  he  found  it 
difficult  to  frame  any  excuse  f6r  his  hasty  accusation. 
"  I  have  borne  with  Gertrude  and  Edith,"  he  soliloquized, 
"  and  formerly  with  Emma,  when  I  have  heard  them  talk 
unkindly  to  one  another,  and  disrespectfully  of  their 
mother ;  but  at  the  very  first  fault  of  Alice,  if,  indeed,  it 
were  a  fault,  I  burst  out  upon  her  in  the  presence  of  the 
whole  family,  and  I  could  not  blame  her  if  she  never  for- 
gave me ;  'twould  be  no  more  than  I  richly  deserve. 
And  after  all,  if  she  did  love  Maurice  Jenks,  he  may  nol 
be  the  vile  character  they  have  represented,  or  she  may 
not  be  aware  of  it.  Yes,  I  may  as  well  confess  it,  —  my 
anger  was  all  caused  by  disappointment  in  finding  my 
plan  defeated  of  marrying  her  to  Clarence.  Just  as  if 
she  had  not  a  right  to  marry  whom  she  chose  ;  and  she 
shall  marry  him  if  he  proves  himself  worthy  ;  and  I'll 
set  them  up  for  life;"  and  the  good  man  swallowed  a 
20*  233 


234  TilF.     HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

great  sob,  and  \vipcd  his  eyes,  as  he  sacrificed  his  darling 
project  of  her  union  with  his  ward.  "  Clarence/'  he  con- 
tinued, "  has  proved  himself  false,  and  he  may  get  along 
as  he  can.  If  he  didn't  love  her  more  than  that,  he  isn't 
worthy  of  her." 

In  the  meantime  the  young  man.  who  was  one  of  the 
subjects  of  his  soliloquy,  lay  in  a  very  unenviable  frame 
of  mind,  despising  himself  quite  as  heartily  as  his  guar- 
dian did,  and  feeling  intense  mortification  that  he  had 
been  so  easily  led  to  belieVe  deceit  and  wrong  to  exist  in 
one  whom  he  had  pretended  to  love.  At  times,  he  heard 
the  sound  of  Uncle  Stephen's  voice,  though  he  could  not 
distinguish  the  words,  which  certainly  would  not  have 
had  a  tendency  to  soothe  him.  Not  for  one  moment  did 
he  lose  the  sense  of  his  sorrow  in  sleep  ;  and  it  was  not 
until  near  dawn  that  he  heard  the  old  gentleman  go  into 
his  bedroom,  and  shut  the  door. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  family  assembled  for 
breakfast,  neither  Uncle  Stephen  nor  Alice  made  their 
appearance ;  but  when  the  rest  were  about  to  separate, 
after  prayers,  Mrs.  Stanley  said  :  "  I  am  desired  by  my 
adopted  child  to  request  you  to  suspend  your  judgment 
of  her  until  evening.  She  feels  that  a  grave  charge  ha? 
been  made  against  her  moral  character;  and  that,  too. 
by  those  whom  she  has  regarded  as  among  her  best 
friends.  Though  it  will  be  a  great  effort ;  yet,  this  eve- 
ning she  wishes  to  explain  some  circumstance?,  hoping 
by  that  means  to  retain  the  good  opinion  of  those  she 
values  so  highly." 

Poor  Clarence !  Every  word  thrust  like  a  dagger  to 
his  heart.  But  merely  bowing  his  assent  to  the  ex- 


IN"    DISGUISE. 


pressed  wish,  he  left  the  house.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if 
he  must  be  under  the  influence  of  a  dreadful  dream,— 
the  idea  appeared  so  impossible  that  he  should  be  placed 
in  sncn  a  relation  to  one  in  whose  heart  he  had  so  earn- 
estly hoped  to  awaken  affection  for  himself.  He  knew 
that  it  would  be  useless  for  him  to  attempt  business,  and, 
therefore,  instead  of  going  to  the  office,  he  took  a  circuit- 
ous route,  which  brought  him  again  to  the  Hall,  where 
he  succeeded  in  gaining  an  entrance  to  the  parlor  unseen 
by  any  one  ;  and  taking  a  book  from  the  table,  withdrew 
into  the  bow-window.  Here,  after  screening  himself 
from  observation,  he  determined  to  remain  until  dinner, 
as  he  knew  at  this  season  of  the  year  the  family  usually 
occupied  their  own  rooms  during  the  early  part  of  the 
day. 

For  the  same  reason  Alice,  an  hour  later,  sought  the 
darkened  parlor  ;  and  languidly  throwing  herself  upon 
the  sofa,  sought  to  compose  her  mind  for  the  task  she 
had  undertaken.  She  was  still  far  from  well.  The  con- 
tinued excitement  of  the  previous  day  had  operated  upon 
a  frame  already  reduced,  and  she  dreaded  her  self-imposed 
explanations. 

In  the  meantime,  Gertrude  and  Edith  were  contriving 
some  way  to  prevent  Alice  from  this  open  refutation  of 
Ihe  charges  against  her.  There  was  much  recrimination 
between  them  ;  Edith  charging  her  sister  with  being  the 
one  to  plan  this  injury  to  the  poor  girl,  while  she  angrily 
retorted,  "  You  were  ready  enough  to  follow  my  sug- 
gestions;" but  both  agreed  that,  as  they  had  gone  so 
far,  they  must  go  farther,  and  'in  some  way  prevent  the 
discovery  of  their  falsehood  and  persecution.  At  length, 


236  THE    HOUSEHOLD     ANGEL 

it  was  decided  that  Gertrude  should  see,  and  try  to  quiet 
Alice,  by  offering  to  explain  all  that  was  necessary  for 
her,  to  the  family.  For  this  purpose  she  sought  her  in 
her  chamber,  then  listened  intently  at  Uncle  Stephen's 
door,  but  hearing  no  conversation  there,  she  feared  the 
object  of  her  search  had  gone,  as  usual,  to  the  village. 
On  opening  the  parlor  door,  however,  she  discovered  her 
lying,  apparently  asleep.  She  carefully  closed  the  door, 
and  advancing  to  the  sofa,  inquired,  "  Are  you  ill,  Alice  ? 
I  will  get  you  something  to  take." 

The  young  girl  opened  her  eyes  at  the  unusual  kind- 
ness of  the  tone,  and  answered,  "  No,  not  ill." 

Though  her  words  were  brief,  there  was  a  depth  of 
sadness  in  them  which  pierced  even  the  heart  of  Ger- 
trude. 

For  an  instant  she  stood  irresolute,  devoutly  regretting 
the  part  she  had  taken,  but  now  she  must  go  on,  or  be 
herself  ruined,  not  only  with  Clarence,  but  with  Uncle 
Stephen.  Then  the  old  spirit  of  jealousy  came  up,  and 
she  asked  herself,  "  Shall  Alice,  the  child  of  poverty,  suc- 
ceed in  gaining  the  affections  of  one  I  love  ? "  and  she 
hesitated  no  longer. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  she  said,  as  the  young  girl  lay  with 
her  face  averted,  "  for  what  occurred  last  evening.  I 
could  not  have  believed  Uncle  Stephen  would  have 
talked  to  you  in  the  manner  he  did." 

Alice  sighed  heavily,  but  made  no  reply. 

"  He  would  not  have  done  so,"  continued  she,  relent- 
lessly, "  but  for  Clarence,  who  came  home  very  much  ex- 
cited at  the  idea  that  you  were  associating  with  so  worth- 
less a  fellow  as  Maurice  Jenks.  He  thought  it  was  a 


IN    DISGUISE.  231" 

disgrace  to  all  of  us,  particularly  to  yourself,  for  whom 
your  friends  had  done  so  much.  Just  think  of  what  you 
would  have  been  if  it  were  not  for  the  kindness  of  our 
family.  Really,  I  have  wondered,  as  I  told  you  once 
before,  whether  you  had  no  pride  about  you.  Why,  if 
1  were  in  your  place  I  would  no  sooner  marry  a  man  so 
much  above  me  as  Clarence  is,  than  I  would  cut  off  my 
two  hands.  I  should  feel  as  if  ah1  the  world  would  say, 
M  Why  couldn't  he  marry  one  in  his  own  station,  instead 
of  throwing  himself  away." 

"  Don't,  oh,  please  don't ! "  plead  Alice,  putting  her 
hands  to  her  throbbing  head. 

But  Gertrude  had  not  yet  done.  "  And  that  is  not 
the  worst;  Clarence  loves  me.  Formerly  he  respected 
you ;  but  the  efforts  you  have  made  to  attract  his  atten- 
tion have  disgusted  him,  so  that  he  says  he  can  hardly 
look  upon  you  with  any  degree  of  complacence  ;  and 
he  says,  too,  that,  even  if  otherwise,  he  should  never  for 
i  moment  think  of  marrying  the  daughter  of  an  insane 
\yoman." 

"  Oh,  stop,  stop  ! ''  cried  Alice,  as  she  raised  herself  to 
a  sitting  posture,  and  pressed  her  hands  convulsively  to 
her  side. 

Gertrude  thought  she  had  now  nearly  reached  a  point 
whore  her  companion  would  gladly  accept  her  offer  to 
procure  for  her  a  better  state  of  feeling  in  the  family ; 
and  she  resumed :  "  I  know  there  is  no  truth  in  what 
Clarence  supposes  to  be  your  intimacy  with  Maurice.  1 
don't  think  you  would  stoop  to  that." 

Alice  started  to  her  feet.  Her  eyes  kindled  almost 
into  a  flame,  and  her  whole  countenance  absolutely 


238  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

glowing  with  indignation,  — "  Have  you  done?"  she 
asked,  in  bitter  scorn.  Do  you  intend  to  drive  me  mad 
with  your  horrible  insinuations  ?  Do  you  suppose  I 
have  not  known  who  it  was  that  was  making  an  at- 
tempt to  blast  my  character  in  the  eyes  of  those  1  most 
dearly  love  ?  Yes,  I  have  known,  and  every  day  I  have 
prayed  that  God  would  open  your  eyes  to  a  sense  of 
your  injustice,  and  that  He  would  enable  me  to  forgive 
you.  And  you  will  not  succeed.  I  deny  all  your  foul 
charges.  I  scorn  your  hints  of  my  immorality  ; "  and 
she  drew  herself  up  to  her  full  height,  as  if  she  were 
ready  to  assert  her  innocence  before  the  world.  "  As  for 
Uncle  Stephen,  I  know  him  so  well,  that  I  believe  by 
this  time  he  bitterly  repents  his  momentary  injustice,  to 
which  he  was  unwillingly  led  by  the  suggestions  of 
others." 

"  Why  not  express  your  opinion  of  Clarence  ?  "  asked 
her  companion,  tauntingly,  and  trying  to  conceal  the 
effect  of  Alice's  manner  upon  herself. 

"  I  am  willing  to  do  so,"  she  replied,  proudly  ;  "  I  be- 
lieve that  my  character  has  been  misrepresented  to  him  ; 
for  what  purpose,  you  perhaps  can  best  judge ;  and  see- 
ing me  yesterday  walking  with  Maurice,  seemed  for  the 
time  to  confirm  some  slanderous  reports  though,  how 
our  names  could  have  been  connected,  I  cannot  easily 
conceive,  as  yesterday  was  the  first  time  I  had  seen  him 
for  years.  I  also  believe  that  when  I  tell  them  this,  and 
ask  the  ground  of  their  suspicions,  for  I  intend  to  be  de- 
terred by  no  false  delicacy  from  thoroughly  investigating 
the  whole  matter,  that  all  my  friends,  and  he  among  the 
rest,  will  restore  then-  confidence  to  me,  and  I  shall  once 


IN  msGrisK.  239 

more  be  happy.  1  believe  him  to  be  all  that  is  true, 
noble,  and  generous,  and  I  sincerely  wish  him  all  the 
happiness  he  so  richly  deserves.  But  I  do  not  believe  he 
ever  spoke  of  me  in  the  way  you  mention.  I  deny 
wholly  ever  giving  him  reason  to  suppose  that  I  was 
seeking  his  affection.  I  would  die  before  I  would  be 
guilty  of  so  unmaidenly  an  act;  and  /  know  he  does 
not  cherish  such  an  opinion  of  me,  if  I  am,  as  you  so 
tauntingly  remind  me,  the  child  of  an  insane  mother, 
supported  by  the  charity  of  your  parents.  Neither  do  I 
believe  that  he  loves  you,  for  you  are  wholly  unlike.  He 
is  a  man  of  truth,  of  honor  and  unbending  integrity; 
you,  have  been  guilty  of  the  meanest  falsehoods,  and 
restrained  by  no  principles  of  honor  or  justice  from  a 
series  of  persecutions  toward  a  poor  girl,  who  has  never 
offended  you,  but  whom  you  fancied  in  the  way  of  your 
own  wishes. 

"  Did  you  never  hear  that  even  a  worm  would  turn 
upon  those  who  would  crash  it  to  the  earth  ?  Did  you 
never  think  that  there  was  a  God  in  the  heavens,  who 
sees  all  that  we  do,  and  who  will  avenge  the  wrongs 
done  to  his  children  ?  I  fully  believe  that  he  will  help 
me  to  prove  my  own  innocence  ;  for,  as  I  stand  here  in 
his  presence,  and  realize  that  he  is  acquainted  not  only 
with  my  actions,  but  with  the  secret  purposes  of  rny 
heart,  I  again  repeat  that  I  am  not  guilty  of  the  charges 
you  have  from  time  to  time  brought  against  me.'' 

Alice  still  stood  proudly  erect,  her  chest  expanding  as 
she  uttered  the  last  sentence,  with  her  eyes  raised,  and 
her  whole  countenance  beaming  with  a  holy  trust  and 
confidence  in  her  heavenly  Father.  But  the  excitement 


240  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

had  carried  her  beyond  her  strength ;  and,  when  she 
ceased,  she  had  only  time  to  gain  her  seat  before  she 
sank  upon  the  pillow  in  a  state  of  perfect  exhaustion. 

It  would  be  in  vain  to  try  to  describe  the  indigna- 
tion, grief,  and  self-condemnation  which  struggled  for 
mastery  in  the  breast  of  Clarence,  as  he  stood,  with 
parted  lips  and  clasped  hands,  behind  the  heavy  curtains. 
Bitterly  he  reproached  himself  for  his  conduct  toward 
the  gentle  girl,  who  had  now  so  nobly  defended  his  char- 
acter, and  ascribed  to  him  traits  he  was  deeply  conscious 
of  not  possessing.  Sometimes  he  started  forward,  una- 
ble longer  to  restrain  himself  from  rushing  into  her  pres- 
ence, avowing  his  love,  and  claiming  the  right  to  protect 
her ;  but  the  very  fervor  and  disinterestedness  of  his 
affection  restrained  him,  as  he  knew  it  would  keenly 
mortify  her,  and  wound  her  delicacy,  if  she  were  made 
aware  of  his  being  present.  Still  more  difficult  was  it 
to  restrain  himself,  when,  upon  hearing  a  step  in  the 
entry,  Gertrude  hastily  retreated.  He  gently  parted  the 
curtain,  and  saw  her  pale  and  trembling,  and  he  dared 
not  expose  her  to  the  additional  excitement  if  he  should 
suddenly  appear.  But  he  determined  to  see  her  without 
delay,  and  to  make  a  formal  demand  of  her  hand  from 
Mr.  Stanley,  her  guardian.  He  did  not  feel  at  all  sure 
that  she  would  accept  him.  The  events  of  the  last  few 
weeks  had  not  increased  the  favorable  prospect  of  a 
happy  termination  of  his  suit;  but,  with  a  full  resolution 
to  end  his  suspense  as  soon  as  possible,  he  was  obliged 
to  content  himself  for  the  present,  for  Alice,  after  lying 
so  quietly  for  a  few  moments  that  he  hoped  she  was 
asleep,  silently  arose,  and  left  the  room.  He  dared  not 


IN    DISGUISE.  211 

venture  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  face,  but  he  saw  that 
she  walked  feebly,  and  with  her  hand  still  holding  her 
side. 

He  lost  not  a  moment  in  leaving  his  position,  and, 
avoiding  the  front  of  the  house,  went  to  the  stable,  sad- 
dled his  horse,  and  rode  to  the  village. 

It  was  well  he  had  gone  so  soon,  for  Mrs.  Stanley, 
immediately  after,  entered  the  parlor  in  search  of  Alice, 
advancing  at  once  to  the  recess ;  here  she  picked  up 
the  book  Clarence  had  let  fall.  Having  failed  to  find 
her  below,  she  returned  to  her  chamber,  and  found  Alice 
seated  on  a  low  stool,  wearily  resting  her  head  upon  the 
cushioned  chair. 

"  I  am  waiting  for  you,  mamma,"  she  said,  looking  up, 
with  a  sad  attempt  to  smile. 

"  And  I  have  been  in  search  of  my  daughter,*'  replied 
Mrs.  Stanley,  as  she  seated  herself,  and  took  the  head  of 
Alice  in  her  lap,  caressingly  putting  back  the  curls  from 
her  brow,  and  laying  her  cool  hand  upon  the  burning 
temples. 

"  Come,  my  little  Ally,"  she  said,  cheerfully,  "  what  do 

you  say  to  a  journey  with  me  to  N ?  From  there 

we  will  go  to  my  native  place,  just  where  we  went  with 
dear  little  Louis." 

"Oh,  mamma!"  murmured  Alice,  mournfully,  while 
hot  tears  forced  their -way  down  her  cheeks,  "  I  would 
like  lo  lie  down  by  his  side.  My  heart  is  sad  and  weary. 
It  seems  a  great  while  since  I  was  a  child  ;  bul  oh,  how 
happy  I  was  then  !  I  am  tired  of  struggling  wilh  my  self, 
and  trying  to  do  right.  I  fear  that  even  this  ton-noon  1 
have  done  wrong,  and  exhibited  an  unforgiving  temper: 

21 


242  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

but  I  was  tried  beyond  my  strength-  and  only  this  morn- 
ing 1  enjoyed  such  a  delightful  season  of  communion 
with  my  heavenly  Father,  and  felt  so  i-'afe  to  leave 
myself  in  his  hands!  I  was  willing  to  forgive  every  one 
who  had  tried  to  injure  me." 

A  low  knock  interrupted  them,  and  Emma  entered. 
At  a  motion  from  her  mother,  she  came  and  kneeled 
down  by  her  weeping  sister,  putting  her  arms  tenderly 
about  her  neck.  Alice  gently  responded  to  her  embrace, 
and  then  continued:  "I  don't  know  but  I  am  doing 
wrong;  but  I  cannot  help  envying  Mrs.  Hayden,  who  is 
wasting  away.  She  looks  forward  with  a  certain  hope 
of  being  received  into  the  presence  of  God.  I  have 
often  thought  of  late  that  I  should  soon  be  called  to  die, 
and  the  idea  has  not  been  unpleasant." 

"  My  dear  Alice,"  exclaimed  her  mother,  "  don't  talk 
so ;  I  fear  it  is  wrong.  I  used  to  indulge  the  same  wish 
after  my  dear  father  was  taken  from  me.  I  thought  my 
happiness  had  fled  forever;  and  I  longed  to  lie  quietly 
by  his  side  rather  than  struggle  with  my  poor,  desolate 
heart.  I  found  out  afterwards  that  I  had  been  indulging 
an  unsubmissive  spirit,  and  was  rebelling  against  the 
afflictions  God,  in  his  wisdom,  saw  to  be  needed  by  me. 
I  do  not  wonder,  my  love,  that  the  world  looks  darkly  to 
you  now;  but,  be  assured,  the  clouds  wi/1  |>ass  away, 
and  I  shall  yet  see  you  as  cheerful  and  light  of  heart  as 
when  you  returned  from  school.  t)o  you  remember  how 
gay  you  were  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  mamma,  but " 

"No  buts,  miss,"  interrupted  her  mother,  cheerfully,, 
"  there  are  no  buts  in  this  case.  All  will  come  out  right 


IN    DISGUISE.  243 

depend  upon  it.  One  heavy  cloud  has  already  blown 
over.  Uncle  Stephen  is  a  stauncher  friend  than  ever. 
Suppose  you  go  now  and  tell  him  you  forgive  him." 

"  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  In  his  own  room,  where  he  has  shut  himself  up  as  a 
prisoner.  He  has  not  left  it  since  you  fainted  last  even- 
ing. Clarence  said  at  breakfast  that  he  did  not  go  to 
bed  until  morning." 

Alice  started  up,  saying,  "  I  am  sorry  I  did  not  know 
it  before.  I  will  go  now,  if  he  will  admit  me." ,'  She 
turned  to  leave  the  room,  but  suddenly  stopped,  and, 
grasping  the  hand  of  Mrs.  Stanley,  asked,  in  a  voice 
trembling  with  emotion,  "  Do  you  think  I  shall  ever  be 
insane  ?  " 

"  Why,  my  child,  what  could  have  put  such  a  question 
into  your  mind  ?  " 

"  Ger  —  Gertrude  —  "  she  hesitated,  and  then  added, 
"  rny  mother  was." 

Mrs.  Stanley  shuddered  at  the  horrible  cruelty  of  such 
a  suggestion,  and  said,  "  There  is  no  more  danger  of  it 
than  in  my  case  or  Emma's." 

After  the  poor  girl  had  left  the  room,  she  told  Emma 
of  her  determination  to  put  a  stop  to  such  a  system  of 
persecution,  blaming  herself  severely  that  it  had  not  been 
done  earlier. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

"  Oh,  what  a  tangled  web  we  weave, 
When  first  we  practise  to  deceive !  "  —  Scott. 

ALICE  knocked  several  times  at  Uncle  Stephen's  door 
before  she  received  any  reply.  At  length  he  asked, 
«  Who  is  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  little  girl,  who  wants  to  see  you." 

"  Well,  then,  come  in." 

She  entered,  and  went  up  to  him  as  she  used  to  do 
when  a  child,  and  seated  herself  upon  his  knee. 

He  made  no  motion,  either  to  invite  or  prevent  her. 

She  put  her  arms  in  a  childlike  manner  around  his 
neck,  and  laid  her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  as  she  asked, 
softly,  "  Don't  you  love  your  little  girl  ?  I  can't  think 
what  I  shall  do  if  you  don't  love  me." 

With  a  deep  sob  from  his  swelling  heart,  the  old  man 
strained  her  to  his  breast  as  if  he  would  never  let  her 
leave  him.  "  Love  you  ?  yes,"  he  exclaimed,  when  he 
could  speak.  "  This  is  the  first  happy  minute  I've  had 
since  I  blurted  out  upon  you  yesterday.  But  will  you 
love  me  ?  is  the  question  I  want  to  hear  answered.  Can 
you  forgive  me,  my  child  ?  " 

"  I  forgave  you  long  ago  ;  I  knew  you  would  be  sorry." 

"  Well,  then,  I'm  all  right.  I  feel  as  if  my  sister,  who 
has  been  dead  and  buried  these  twenty  years,  had  come 
back  to  me.  And  now,  child,  ask  anything  in  the  world 

244 


T1IE     HOrSKIIOLD    ANGE1,    IN    DISGU1SK.  24-J 

that  it  Is  in  my  power  to  grant,  and  you  shall  have  it, 
even  to  the  half  of  my  kingdom." 

"  I  don't  want  anything,''  she  replied,  laying  her  head 
on  his  shoulder  to  hide  the  sadness  that  was  beginning 
again  to  steal  over  her,  "  but  to  have  all  my  friends  love 
me  as  they  used  to  do  when  I  was  a  little  girl.  Oh  ! " 
she  added,  with  a  burst  of  feeling,  "  how  I  do  long  for 
Louis ! " 

"  Well,  I  can't  bring  Louis  back,  and  I  wouldn't  if  I 
could,  for  this  world  is  a  hard  place  to  live  in,  and  the 
faster  we  get  ourselves  ready  to  go  out  of  it  the  better, 
I'm  thinking.  But  what  is  it  about  this  Maurice  ?  Is 
he  a  good,  trusty  fellow  ?  If  you  say  he  is,  I'll  contrive 
to  bring  it  about  so  that  you  shall  be  married  to  him, 
though  I  don't  know  but  'twill  break  my  heart." 

"  You  have  been  deceived,  Uncle  Stephen.  Maurice 
Jenks  is  nothing  to  me.  Yesterday  was  the  first  time  I 
have  seen  him  for  years,  and  though  the  meeting  was 
far  from  pleasant  to  me,  yet  I  can't  understand  why  so 
much  should  be  made  of  it." 

"  Not  love  him !"  and  the  excited  old  gentleman  pushed 
her  off  that  he  might  look  her  in  the  face,  "  and  no  idea 
of  marrying  him !  Why,  Edifh  said  the  reason  you 
went  to  Mrs.  Hayden's  so  much  was  to  meet  him  there, 
and  Gertrude  told  Clarence,  a  week  ago,  that  you  had 
loved  him  from  a  child,  when  you  went  to  school  to- 
gether." 

i  don't  know  what  led  her  to  think  so;  but  of  this  I 
am   sure,  that  worlds  would  not  tempt  me  to  marry  a 
man  of  his  character;  and  he  has   never  given   rne  the 
least  reason  to  suppose  that  IK-  wished  me  to  do  so." 
21' 


246  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

The  good  man  was  so  much  agitated,  he  hardly  knew 
how  to  contain  his  feelings.  He  kissed  Alice  again  and 
again,  thanked  her  repeatedly  for  the  relief  she  had  af- 
forded him,  and  then  commenced  a  vigorous  walk  across 
the  room,  rubbing  his  hands  and  exclaiming:  "  What  an 
old  fool  I've  V-- 1:  :naking  of  myself;  I  might  have  known 
you  wouldn't  go  and  spoil  all  my  nice  plans.  There, 
child,  run  away,  quick ;  I  may  say  something  I  ought 
not." 

At  dinner  Mr.  Stanley,  noticing  Alice's  pale  cheeks 
and  want  of  appetite,  recommended  her  to  ride.  As  he 
left  the  room  he  turned  back,  and  with  unusual  tender- 
ness patted  her  cheek,  saying  :  "  Let  me  see  some  roses 
blooming  here,  at  tea." 

How  little  he  thought  that  he  and  Alice  Carey  should 
never  meet  again ! 

Though  scarcely  able  to  endure  the  fatigue,  Alice  con- 
cluded to  have  Felix  saddled,  and  to  pay  Mrs.  Hayden  a 
visit.  She  was  sensible  of  a  general  lassitude  creeping 
over  her  whole  system,  and  it  was  with  quite  an  effort 
that  she  equipped  herself  in  her  riding-dress,  and  started 
for  the  village.  But  in  a  few  moments  the  clear  air,  and 
.the  exercise  of  riding,  exhilarated  her  spirits,  and  when 
nearly  half  way  to  her  destination  she  met  Dr.  Jenks,  she 
began  to  look  a  little  like  herself. 

"  Good  day,  Miss  Alice,"  he  cried,  stopping  his  horse , 
"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  though  you  look  as  if  a  dose  of 
physic  wouldn't  do  you  any  harm.  I  have  found  you 
another  patient,  a  young  girl,  about  your  own  age.  She's 
been  in  my  hands  a  few  days  ;  but  1  think  in  her  case 
you  can  do  better  than  I  can." 


IN    DISGUISE.  247 

After  learning  where  she  was  to  be  found,  Alice  said  . 
M  I  will  try  to  call  upon  her  to-morrow.  I  have  not  been 
quite  well  for  a  few  days,  and  hardly  think  I  should  do 
her  much  good  if  I  went  to-day." 

"  No  immediate  hurry,"  replied  the  Doctor.  "  She's  a 
genuine  case,  though  ;  and  such  an  one  as  will  interest 
you  quite  as  much  as  either  of  your  protege's." 

An  hour  later,  the  family  at  Lindenwood  were  thrown 
into  the  utmost  consternation  by  seeing  Felix,  without 
his  rider,  come  dashing  at  full  speed  up  the  avenue,  —  his 
saddle  partly  turned,  and  he  trembling  in  every  limb,  as 
if  from  sudden  fright.  Uncle  Stephen,  who  happened  to 
be  looking  from  the  window,  was  almost  beside  himself, 
and  greatly  increased  the  confusion  by  his  vain  endeavors 
to  learn  something  of  the  equestrian.  Mr.  Stanley  could 
not  readily  be  found,  and  his  wife  instantly  despatched  a 
boy,  on  horseback,  to  the  village,  to  ascertain  whether  any 
accident  had  befallen  Alice  ;  and  if  so,  to  go  at  once  for 
the  Doctor.  Emma  started  off  in  the  same  direction  on 
foot,  while  the  coachman  was  ordered  to  harness  the 
horse  into  the  carryall,  and  follow  her  immediately,  to 
bring  Alice  home.  Uncle  Stephen  walked  hurriedly  up 
and  down  the  avenue  ;  Mrs.  Stanley  in  vain  imploring 
him  to  be  calm,  and  suggesting  that  it  might  not  prove 
to  be  as  bad  as  they  feared.  Gertrude  and  Edith  clung 
together,  in  their  affright,  pale  and  trembling  at  their  own 
thoughts. 

At  length,  the  carriage  is  seen  returning  at  full  speed. 
Their  hearts  beat  wildly  with  hope.  Alice  is  in  it,  and 
uninjured.  But  no!  Emma  is  bitterly  weeping.  She 
cannot  speak  as  they  pass,  but  silently  motions  them 


248  THE     HOUSEHOLD    AXGF.L 

to  return.  They  hastily  follow  the  carriage  to  the 
house. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Stanley,  tremulously. 
"  Why  did  you  not  bring  her  home  ?  " 

With  a  fresh  burst  of  tears,  Emma  pointed  to  d  wagon 
just  come  in  sight,  and  which  was  slowly  entering  tin- 
large  gate  at  the  foot  of  the  avenue. 

Mrs.  Stanley  stood  almost  paralyzed,  and  then  caught 
hold  of  the  door  for  support.  She  tried  to  speak,  but 
her  tongue  refused  to  perform  its  office.  With  a  loud 
cry  of  agony,  Uncle  Stephen  rushed  by  them,  and  locked 
himself  in  his  own  room. 

Yes,  there  upon  a  bed  thrown  upon  the  bottom  of  a 
wagon,  from  which  the  seat  had  been  hastily  taken  out, 
lay  the  senseless  form  of  poor  Alice  Carey.  Her  head 
was  supported  in  the  lap  of  a  young  woman,  who  was 
weeping,  while  men  and  boys  walked  solemnly  at  their 
side. 

Before  Mrs.  Stanley  could  recall  her  scattered  senses, 
Dr.  Jenks  drove  hastily  up,  and  finding  nothing  had  been 
prepared,  requested  that  a  bed  should  be  made  ready  as 
speedily  as  possible,  that  he  might  see  to  what  extent  his 
patient  had  been  injured. 

When  the  wagon  stopped  at  the  dooi,  the  Doctor,  with 
the  assistance  of  two  men,  conveyed  the  insensible  girl 
to  her  room,  and  laid  her  gently  upon  the  bed.  A  low 
iiioan  escaped  her  lips ;  but  she  did  not  appear  to  be 
conscious.  Mrs.  Stanley  bent  over  her  poor  child,  and 
commenced  a  vigorous  chafing  of  her  hands,  wln-n  the 
Doctor  beckoned  her  from  the  room,  motioning  Emma 
to  take  her  mother's  place. 


IN    DISGUISE.  249 

"  Where  is  your  husband  ?  "  he  asked,  forcing  himself 
to  be  calm. 

"  We  have  not  I  i  en  able  to  find  him.  He  went  out 
to  walk  after  dinner." 

"  Well,  madanij  it  is  my  painful  duty  to  inform  you 
that  this  is  a  serious  case.  I  fear  some  internal  injury, 
and  I  wish  to  send  to  the  village  for  another  physician 
to  assist  me  in  the  examination.  I  shall  also  need  other 
help." 

"  I  shall  not  leave  my  child,"  faltered  Mrs.  Stanley, 
trying  to  repress  the  tears  which  blinded  her. 

"  Can  you  be  calm  ?  Everything  depends  upon 
that." 

"  I  can,"  she  replied,  more  firmly.  "  It  is  the  sudden- 
ness of  the  blow  which  has  stunned  me." 

"  Well,  I  shall  need  bandages  and  plenty  of  warm 
water.  I  see  her  arm  is  broken.  God  grant  there  may 
be  nothing  worse.  Don't  make  too  much  effort  to  restore 
her  to  consciousness,  as  she  will  be  likely  to  suffer  excru- 
ciating pain  under  the  examination.  I  will  send  a  man 
in  my  buggy  for  Dr.  Mason.  He  is  a  better  surgeon 
than  I  am,  young  as  he  is,  and  the  sooner  he  is  here  the 
belter." 

It  seemed,  however,  to  the  waiting  group  around  the 
bed,  a  long,  long  time,  before  the  young  surgeon  arrived. 
brin«rin<T  \\ith  him  a  formidable  box  of  instruments. 

O         O  * 

which,  from   the   exaggerated    account  he  received,  lie 
thought  might  be  necessary. 

Dr.  Jen'ks  called  him  to  the  farther  part,  of  the  room, 
and  in  a  lo\v  voice  said  a  few  words,  when  they  returned 
to  the  bed. 


250  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"  Miss  Emma,"  said  the  doctor,  "  yon  had  better  leave 
the  room  ;  you  can't  bear  it." 

Emma  shook  her  head,  and  tried  to  speak,  but  the 
words  "  try  me  "  were  the  only  ones  which  she  could 
articulate. 

"  Well,  then,  hold  her  hand  firmly  ;  and  Mrs.  Stanley, 
if  you  must  stay,  —  though  I  had  rather  have  somebody 
else,  —  come  around  this  side  and  unfasten  her  dress." 

Though  excessively  pale,  she  obeyed.  The  kind  doc- 
tor gently  raised  her,  and  soon  the  fair  neck  and  shoulder 
was  exposed  to  view. 

"  This  arm  is  broken  in  two  places,"  said  Dr.  Mason. 
"  Have  you  the  splinters  ?  " 

A  shriek  of  distress  from  the  poor  girl,  as  they  moved 
it,  showed  that  she  was  not  now  insensible. 

"  Dear,  darling  Alice,  be  calm,  do  be  calm  !  "  whispered 
Emma,  forcing  back  the  unbidden  tears  which  had  been 
coursing  down  her  cheeks.  "  It  will  soon  be  over."  But 
shriek  after  shriek  filled  the  air,  as  they  set  the  bone,  un- 
til she  again  fainted  from  excess  of  agony. 

"  There,  I'm  glad  she's  gone  !  "  exclaimed  Dr.  Jenks,  as 
he  held  the  arm  in  place,  while  the  young  surgeon,  with 
great  skill,  applied  the  bandages.  When  this  was  done, 
they  proceeded,  under  the  influence  of  a  powerful  ano- 
dyne, to  a  farther  examination,  which  resulted  more  fa- 
vorably than  they  had  dared  to  hope.  The  poor  sufferer 
lay  in  a  heavy  slumber,  when  a  loud  noise  in  the  Hall 
arrested  their  attention.  Above  all  sounds,  the  voice 
of  Mrs.  Carey  was  distinctly  heard,  calling  out,  in  fren- 
zied tones,  "  I  will  go  to  her !  I  wont  be  kept  from  my 
child !  and  you,  Mr.  Stanley,  must  follow  me !  " 


IN    DISGUISE.  251 

"  Don't  let  that  crazy  woman  in  here  ! "  exclaimed  the 
doctor. 

"  I  hear  my  husband's  voice,  and  he  will  prevent  her," 
said  Mrs.  Stanley.  Suddenly  there  was  a  sound  of  great 
running,  the  door  burst  open,  and  the  poor  mother  rushed 
in  and  threw  herself  on  her  knees  by  the  side  of  the  bed. 
Dr.  Jenks  approached  gently  to  lead  her  out ;  but  she 
stood  up  before  him,  and,  pointing  with  her  long,  thin 
finger,  to  Alice,  said  solemnly,  "  God  sent  me  here,  and 
here  I  shall  stay  until  I  have  done  what  he  bids  me." 

"How  long  will  it  take  ?"  asked  Dr.  Mason,  impa- 
tiently, as  he  kept  his  fingers  on  the  pulse  of  his  patient. 
He  knew  nothing  of  the  relation  existing  between  them, 
and  wondered  that  the  crazy  woman  should  be  allowed 
to  remain  in  the  room  for  a  moment. 

"  Mr.  Stanley,  come  near ! "  she  cried,  "  for  to  you  I 
must  make  my  confession  !  "  There  was  in  her  eye  an 
expression  of  calmness,  which,  notwithstanding  her 
strange  manner,  awed  them  into  silence,  and  she  went 
on.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you  weep,  Mr.  Stanley.  You 
may  well  gaze  at  the  poor  child,  and  shed  tears  at  her 
distress,  for  she  is  your  own  !  " 

With  a  sudden  start  he  sprang  to  the  bedside  ;  but  she 
waived  him  away,  and  continued,  in  a  firm  voice,  though 
,husky  with  emotion,  "  Hear,  hear,  all  of  you,  while  God 
gives  me  strength  to  speak.  That  child  was  given  me 
to  nurse.  I  kept  her,  and  put  my  own  daughter,  Edith, 
in  her  place.  I  didn't  at  first  intend  to  have  it  remain  so, 
but  I  was  pleased  to  see  that  my  child  was  caressed,  and 
by  and  bye  it  was  too  late  for  me  to  take  her  back.  But 
I  have  known  for  a  long  time  that  this  day  would  surely 


252  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

come  —  that  these  words  would  be  forced  from  my  lips. 
I  have  heard  it  in  the  sighing  breeze,  in  the  gurgling  of 
yonder  brook,  and  in  the  howling  of  the  angry  wind 
The  robins  in  the  branches,  and  even  the  frogs  in  the 
meadow,  have  never  ceased  to  remind  me  that  this  day 
was  hastening  on.  But  of  late,  strange  voices  have  whis- 
pered to  me  in  the  night-watches,  '  Guilty  woman,  your 
sin  will  soon  be  discovered.'  I  have  often  tried  to  con- 
fess to  you,  but  'I  was  restrained.  <•  Not  yet,  not  yet,' 
was  ever  the  cry,  and  1  could  not  resist  the  inward 
voice." 

When  she  ceased,  all  present,  stood  speechless,  until 
Dr.  Jenks  asked,  "  What  proof  have  you  of  the  truth  of 
this  story  ?  "  though  her  declaration  had  flashed  instant 
conviction  upon  their  minds. 

"  Proof!  "  she  cried,  with  a  flashing  eye,  "  her  father 
needs  no  proof!  He  knows,  now,  why  the  sight  of  that 
child  always  reminded  him  of  the  mother  who  bore  her. 
He  understands  why  that  mother  loved  her  so  tenderly. 
Her  heart  was  drawn  out  toward  her  own  offspring.  He 
knows  why  she  and  Louis  loved  each  other  so  dearly. 
If  you  want  more  proof,  ask  Uncle  Stephen,"  glancing 
toward  him.  "  He  will  tell  you  he  always  knew  it.  He 
has  said  a  hundred  times,  '  That  child  reminds  me  of  my 
sister.'  But,  if  all  that  will  not  satisfy  you,  in  what  one. 
thing  is  she  like  me  ?  Look  at  her,  beautiful  even  in  her 
death-like  slumber.  Then  her  heart  is  pure,  while  Edith 

Dr.  Jenks,"  she  continued,  after  a  moment,  catching 

hold  of  his  arm,  "  do  you  remember  when  this  child  wag 
born  ?  " 

The  doctor  nodded  assent,  wondering  what  was  to 
follow. 


IN    DISGUISE.  *       25vt 

"  Had  she  any  mark,  by  which  to  distinguish  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  either  she  or  Emma  had  a  large 
brown  spot,  like  a  bean,  upon  her  back,  just  below  the 
shoulder-blade." 

"  I  have  often  noticed  it  when  I  have  dressed  her," 
gasped  Mrs.  Stanley,  while  her  husband  rushed  from  the 
room,  and  locked  himself  in  his  chamber. 

All  this  passed  much  more  quickly  than  it  can  be  re- 
lated, and  now  Mrs.  Carey,  no  longer  the  mother  of 
Alice,  was  easily  persuaded  to  return  home,  while  the 
physicians,  after  congratulating  the  parents  upon  the  un- 
expected discovery,  retired  to  consult  and  to  appoint  the 
time  for  a  still  more  thorough  investigation  of  her  case 
on  the  morrow. 

The  lovely  young  girl  still  lay  under  the  influence  of 
the  anodyne,  which  had  been  administered  when  she  first 
began  to  recover  her  consciousness.  Dr.  Jenks  ordered 
another  powder  when  she  awoke,  and  promised  to  call  in 
again  late  in  the  evening,  and  make  arrangements  for  the 
night.  "  I  shall  bring  Nurse  Green  with  me,"  he  added, 
as  he  was  leaving  the  room  ;  but  Mrs.  Stanley  was  firm 
in  refusing  to  leave  her  child.  With  what  a  loving  tone 
she  now  repeated  the  blessed  words,  "  my  child." 

When  the  good  man  went  down  stairs,  Mr.  Stanley 
came  out  of  his  study,  and  beckoned  him  within.  "  Will 
she  live  ?  "  he  asked,  forcing  himself  to  speak  with  some 
degree  of  calmness. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I   hope   so,"  replied  the  doctor,  cheerfully. 
"  We  have  yet  found  no  other  injury  except  a  broken 
arm,  and,  under  the  skilful  treatment  of  Dr.  Mason,  that 
\vill  be  as  strong  as  ever  in  a  couple  of  months." 
22 


254  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"  May   God   grant  it,"   said   the   father,  impressively 
u  Have  you  heard  how  the  accident  happened  ?  " 

"  Nothing  beyond  the  story  of  the  boy  who  came  for 
me,  —  that  the  horse  took  fright  and  threw  her.  She 
was  found  in  the  street  turning  from  the  one  where  Mrs. 
Hayden  lives,  and  probably  had  just  left  there.  I  must 
call  and  tell  them  how  she  is,  or  I  shall  have  trouble. 
Indeed,"  added  the  good  man,  smiling,  as  he  turned  to 
take  his  leave,  "  I  shall  be  very  popular  for  a  few  days, 
and  shall  be  besieged  with  inquiries  concerning  the 
health  of  your  daughter.  She  is  a  great  favorite  in  the 
village." 

Mr.  Stanley  warmly  pressed  his  hand,  but  did  not  re- 
ply. His  heart  was  too  full  for  utterance. 

In  the  meantime  how  did  Edith  bear  the  sudden 
change  which  had  come  over  her  prospects?  No  one 
knew.  She  and  Gertrude  had  been  among  the  crowd 
assembled  in  the  entry,  and  at  the  very  first  intimation 
of  the  fact  from  her  mother,  she  flew  to  her  own  room, 
and  locked  her  door,  and  when  Gertrude  knocked  repeat- 
edly, she  received  no  answer.  She  instinctively  knew 
it  was  true.  Poor  girl !  it  will  be  a  hard  lesson  for  her 
to  learn.  Let  us  leave  her  and  turn  to  a  room  nearly 
opposite  that  in  which  the  father  and  mother  are  hang- 
ing over  their  new-found  child,  and  discover  what  are 
Uncle  Stephen's  thoughts  with  reference  to  this  new  re- 
lation. 

When,  in  an  agony  of  grief,  he  shut  himself  up  in  his 
bedroom,  he  feared  the  life  of  Alice  was  extinct ;  but, 
after  remaining  alone  until  he  could  endure  the  suspense 
no  longer,  he  opened  his  door,  and  learned  from  one  of 


IN    DISGUISE. 

he  servants  that  she  still  lived.  He  stood  in  the  hall 
,vhen  Mrs.  Carey,  noticing  his  presence,  referred  to  him 
as  proof  that  he  had  long  recognized  the  relation.  Then, 
unable  to  bear  the  tumult  of  joy  caused  by  so  happy  a 
discovery,  he  caught  his  hat  ancl  rushed  out  to  find  Clar- 
ence, that  he  might  impart  the  blessed  news  to  him.  But 
he  had  hardly  proceeded  through  the  park,  when  he  saw, 
in  the  distance,  a  horse  dashing  toward  him,  and  in  the 
rider  of  which  he  soon  recognized  his  ward. 

Restless  and  unable  to  fix  his  attention  upon  his  busi- 
ness, after  the  exciting  scenes  of  the  morning,  at  an  early 
hour  Clarence  went  to  the  stable  for  his  horse,  that  he 
might  return  to  Lindenwood.  He  walked  on  with  quick 
and  elastic  step,  for,  notwithstanding  all  which  had  oc- 
curred, his  heart  was  lighter  than  for  many  weeks.  He 
could  now  trace  the  cause  of  Alice's  reserve  in  the  cruel 
remarks  to  which  she  had  been  subjected,  a  specimen  of 
which  he  had  heard  in  the  morning ;  and  in  her  noble 
vindication  of  him,  he  loved  to  think  he  had  discovered 
some  sparks  of  affection,  which  it  would  be  his  delight- 
ful privilege  to  fan  into  a  flame.  He  determined  at  once 
to  see  her  guardian,  and,  by  the  avowal  of  his  affection, 
preclude  the  necessity  of  the  explanation  which  he  fore- 
saw would  be  so  trying  to  her  sensitive  nature.  His  eye 
grew  bright,  and  his  whole  countenance  beamed  with 
pleasant  anticipations  as  he  hurried  on,  until  his  atten- 
tion was  arrested  by  seeing  groups  of  men,  women,  and 
boys  standing  together,  and  heard  the  words  "  dreadful! 
wnat  a  shocking  accident !"  Pausing  for  one  moment 
to  listen,  the  name  "  Miss  Carey  "  caught  his  ear,  when, 
with  a  countenance  blanched  with  sudden  fear,  he 


256  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

stepped  quickly  forward,  and  asked,  "  What  has  oc- 
curred ?  " 

A  boy  replied,  "  Why,  hav'n't  you  heard  ?  Miss  Alice 
Carey,  the  young  lady  who  rides  every  day  on  horseback, 
and  who  is  <<o  good  to  tfce  poor,  has  been  thrown  from 
her  horse,  and  killed !  " 

"  Killed  ?  "  repeated  Clarence,  reeling  against  the  man 
who  stood  next  him. 

"  No !  "  exclaimed  a  boy,  pressing  up  through  the 
crowd  which  .  had  begun  to  gather,  "  I  was  there  when 
they  took  her  out  of  the  wagon,  and  I  heard  her  groan 
awfully.  She  isn't  killed,  but  she's  horridly  hurt." 

Though  rendered  almost  blind  by  sudden  faintness  and 
dizziness,  Clarence  waited  to  hear  no  more.  He  sprang 
upon  his  horse,  and,  after  urging  him  to  his  utmost  speed, 
slackened  not  his  pace  until  he  met  his  guardian  coming 
in  search  of  him.  The  old  gentleman  was  evidently  con- 
tending with  mixed  emotions  of  sorrow  and  joy,  and,  as 
his  ward  sprang  from  the  saddle  to  his  side,  caught  his 
hand,  and  said,  "  Clarence,  Alice  Carey  is  no  more ;  but 
I  have  found  a  niece  I  shall  love  even  better  than  I  did 
her." 

"  The  shock  has  turned  his  brain,"  thought  the  young 
man.  "  Come,  dear  Uncle,"  he  said,  tenderly,  "  let  me 
lead  you  to  the  house."  "  Alice  !  where  is  Alice  ?  "  he 
gasped  out,  as  Emma  ran  out  to  meet  him. 

"  Oh,  Clarence  !  rejoice  with  us.  Alice,  dear,  sweet 
Alice  is  ours  now.  She  is  my  own  dear  sister." 

Scarcely  hearing  or  heeding  this  remark,  he  repeated, 
"  Where  is  she  ?  Will  she  live  ?  " 

"  The  doctors  cannot  tell  until  to-morrow,  but  they 


IN    DISGUISE.  ZO/ 

hope  now  there  is  no  more  serious  injury  than  ner  broken 
arm." 

The  young  lawyer  breathed  more  freely,  and,  tying  hi? 
horse  at  the  post,  he  accompanied  Emma  to  the  parlor, 
where  he  heard  from  her  a  full  account  of  what  had  oc- 
curred. 

Not  once  did  he  interrupt  her,  but  his  compressed  lips, 
from  which  every  trace  of  color  had  vanished,  and  the 
eagerness  with  which  he  caught  her  words,  proved  to  his 
companion  his  sympathy  with  the  poor  sufferer. 

"  Won't  it  be  delightful  to  have  such  a  sister  1 "  asked 
Emma,  anxious  to  turn  from  the  gloomy  side  of  the  pic- 
ture. "  I  never  knew  until  now  how  much,  how  very 
much,  I  loved  her." 

"  If  she  lives,"  he  faltered,  his  voice  tremulous  with 
suppressed  emotion.  At  that  moment  her  father  entered, 
and  Uncle  Stephen  stepped  eagerly  forward,  and  caught 
him  by  the  hand. 

"  Thank  you,"  responded  Mr.  Stanley,  "  for  your  love 
to  my  beloved  child.  I  cannot  see  how  I  could  have 
been  so  blind.  Every  feature  resembles  my  deceased 
Emma ;  but  no  more  than  her  lovely  character.  You 
and  her  mother  have  better  appreciated  her  worth.  This 
will  form  a  new  tie  between  us.  Clarence,"  called  he, 
turning  toward  him,  as  he  leaned  against  the  mantel- 
piece, concealing  his  face  with  his  hat,  "  I  wish  you 
would  go  over  and  see  what  has  become  of  Mrs.  Carey. 
Some  one  ought  to  stay  with  her  and  watch  her  closely. 
Stay,"  he  added,  as  he  noticed  his  pale,  haggard  expres- 
sion, "  you  are  not  well."  A  sudden  thought  flashed 
through  his  mind.  "  Don't  think  I  blame  you  for  what 
22* 


258  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

occurred  last  evening.  That  will  all  come  out  light,  auu 
my  Alice  is  not  one  to  lay  up  anything  against  her 
Mends." 

These  words,  though  kindly  spoken,  afforded  him  but 
poor  consolation.  He  bowed  his  thanks,  however,  and 
wont  out  to  Mrs.  Carey's  small  cottage.  But  he  only 
saw  the  woman  who  took  care  of  her,  who  informed  him 
that  she  came  home  from  the  hall  trembling  and  excited, 
but  in  full  possession  of  her  reason.  That  she  appeared 
very  glad  that  she  had  relieved  herself  of  the  dreadful 
burden  that  had  oppressed  her  for  so  many  years  ;  but 
that  she  dreaded  to  meet  Edith,  as  she  knew  her  child 
would  bitterly  reproach  her.  "  I  promised  her,"  added 
the  woman,  "  that  if  she  would  retire,  no  one  should  dis- 
turb her." 

4At  the  mention  of  Edith,  Clarence  started.  He  had 
been  so  wholly  engrossed  in  his  anxiety  for  Alice,  that 
the  change  in  the  situation  of  her  foster-sister  had  not 
once  occurred  to  him.  "  How  would  her  proud  and 
haughty  spirit  bear  so  sudden  a  reverse  of  fortune  ?  "  H 
was  a  fruitful  subject  of  thought,  and  one  which  occupied 
the  people  of  the  village  for  a  long  time.  But  at  present 
his  whole  soul  was  racked  with  anxiety  for  the  poor  girl 
who  still  lay  insensible.  He  had  not  yet  asked  himself 
what  would  be  the  effect  upon  his  suit  for  her  hand,  of 
ler  being  raised  to  the  station  of  daughter  to  Mr.  Stan- 
ey  ;  he  could  only  think  of  her  as  Emma  had  vividly 
•epresented  her  when  suffering  so  keenly  from  the  setting 
of  her  arm. 

He  walked  slowly  back  and  forth  through  the  yard, 
until  summoned  by  a  servant  to  tea.  Though  the  hearta 


IN    DISGUISE.  2*59 

of  all  the  group  gathered  around  the  board  were  centred 
upon  one  dear  member,  yet  it  was  a  silent  meal.  Indeed, 
the  assembling  there  was  little  more  than  a  form,  and 
then  there  were  three  absent.  The  mother,  with  h«>? 
child,  and  Edith,  who  still  refused  admittance  to  alJ 


CHAPTER     XX11 

"  Happy  arc  those, 

That  knowing  in  their  births  they  are  subject  to 
Uncertain  change,  are  still  prepar'd  and  arm'd 
For  either  fortune;  a  rare  principle, 
And  with  much  labor  learned  in  wisdom's  school." 

Massinger. 

WHAT  a  change  in  a  few  short  hours!  They  could 
hardly  realize  it ;  and  when  Mr.  Stanley's  swelling  heart 
found  utterance  in  prayer  for  her  who  had  brought  back 
from  the  grave  the  image  of  her  deceased  mother  —  for 
her  who  had  been  so  wonderfully  preserved  from  death, 
the  whole  family  wept  aloud. 

During  the  evening,  to  which  Clarence  had  looked  for- 
ward with  such  joyous  anticipations,  as  he  and  his 
guardian  were  sitting  silently  in  the  parlor,  Emma  came 
to  the  door  and  beckoned  him  to  join  her.  "  Do  you  re- 
member my  own  mother  ?  "  she  inquired,  softly. 

"  Perfectly." 

"  Father  thought  so,  and  he  wants  you  to  come  and 
Jook  at  oui  poor  Alice.  She  is  not  yet  conscious,"  she 
added,  as  he  instinctively  started  back. 

Though  his  heart  grew  faint  with  an  undefined  feeling 
of  terror,  he  silently  followed  her. 

Her  father  was  leaning  over  the  pallid  face  of  his  child, 
and  bathing  her  temples  with  aromatic  vinegar.  For 
years  he  had  been  unused  to  the  sick  room  ;  but  this  was 

260 


IN    DISGUISE.  261 

an  office  he  would  resign  to  no  other.  He  looked  up,  as 
the  young  man  entered,  and  beckoned  him  to  his  side. 
There  she  lay,  the  object  of  his  purest,  deepest  affections, 
pale  and  motionless  as  marble,  save  only  now  and  then 
a  slight  contraction  of  the  brow,  as  if  she  were  suffering. 
He  gazed  and  gazed,  as  if  his  whole  soul  were  concen- 
trated in  that  one  absorbing,  fixed  look.  Her  curls,  moist- 
ened by  the  vinegar,  w%re  pushed  back,  revealing  fully 
the  broad  brow,  which  generally  was  partly  concealed ; 
the  blue  veins  were  distinctly  marked  under  the  transpa- 
rent skin,  while  the  dark,  curling  eyelashes,  as  they  lay 
upon  her  cheek,  were  all  that  relieved  the  marble  white- 
ness. 

Mr.  Stanley  pointed  to  the  small  mouth,  and  whis- 
pered, "  Blind,  blind,  indeed  I've  been  !  How  like  her 
mother ! 

If  the  young  man  heard,  he  made  no  reply,  and  Em- 
ma was  obliged  to  touch  his  arm  repeatedly  before  she 
could  make  him  understand  it  was  time  for  him  to  leave 
the  room.  What  reflections  upon  the  past,  what  resolu- 
tions for  the  future,  were  crowded  into  those  brief  mo- 
ments, God  only  knew.  But  Clarence,  in  after  years, 
acknowledged  that  life  and  death  never  before  appeared 
to  him  in  their  true  relation  to  each  other;  that  whi'e 
gazing  upon  her  fair  face,  and  remembering  the  early 
piety  by  which  she  had  dedicated  herself  to  the  service 
of  her  Maker,  the  consistent,  useful  life  she  had  led,  and 
the  certainty, in  the  event  of  her  death,  of  her  going  to 
her  Saviour,  he  realized  that, 

"  It  is  not  all  of  life  to  live, 
Nor  all  of  death  to  die." 


262  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

When  Emma  opened  the  door  into  the  entry,  she 
found  Uncle  Stephen  there,  waiting  to  ascertain  whether 
there  was  any  favorable  change.  Mrs.  Stanley  silently 
advanced,  and  led  him  to  the  bed. 

But  the  sight  he  there  beheld  was  more  than  he  could 
endure.  With  only  one  glance  at  the  long  frame  in 
which  lay  the  broken  arm,  and  at  the  pale  face,  which 
seemed  like  a  visitor  from  the  spirit-world,  he  covered  his 
eyes  and  hurried  from  the  room. 

After  the  first  shock,  wThen  he  feared  she  had  been 
killed  by  her  fall,  he  had  been  so  overjoyed  at  being  able 
to  explain  to  himself  why  his  heart  had  been  so  forcibly 
drawn  toward  the  lovely  child  ;  and  to  solve  the  question 
so  many  times  repeated,  "  Why  does  she  so  often  remind 
me  of  my  sister,"  that  he  had  thought  letis  of  the  danger 
which  still  threatened  her  life.  But  now  it  was  greatly 
magnified,  and  he  could  find  no  comfort  except  upon  his 
knees.  Oh,  how  many  times,  that  night,  he  thanked  God 
that  this  had  not  happened  before  she  had  assured  him 
of  her  forgiveness !  How  clearly  her  sweet  voice  rang 
in  his  ear,  "  Don't  you  love  your  little  girl  ?  " 

At  nine  o'clock  the  Doctor  came  again,  and  was 
pleased  to  see  that  there  was  then  no  appearance  of 
tever,  and  ordered  her  lips  to  be  wet  with  cordial  every 
fifteen  minutes.  Unless  the  pain  was  very  severe,  the 
anodyne  was  to  be  discontinued.  He  prescribed  the 
most  perfect  quiet,  and  left  them  with  lightened  hearts  to 
prepare  for  the  duties  of  the  night. 

What  a  comfort  is  a  good  physician  !  How  earnestly 
do  we  listen  for  his  footstep, and  welcome  his  approach! 
How  closely  we  watch  his  features  to  discern  hh 


IN    DISGUISE.  263 

opinion  of  his  patient,  before  he  can  have  time  to  express 
it  in  words  !  How  grateful  do  we  feel  for  the  hope  \vith 
which  he  brightens  the  future,  or  for  the  sympathy  which 
soothes  our  most  fearful  anticipations  of  sorrow! 

After  the  good  Doctor  left,  Mr.  Stanley  retired  for  a 
few  moments  to  his  study,  to  be  alone  with  his  God,  ami 
to  pour  out  his  soul  in  prayer  for  his  child.  He  had  just 
arisen,  when  he  heard  a  low  knock  at  his  door.  He 
started  quickly,  fearing  it  was  a  message  for  him  to  re- 
turn to  Alice,  when  Gertrude  entered.  In  a  voice  almost 
inarticulate,  she  signified  her  desire  to  detain  him.  But 
when  he  tenderly  led  her  to  the  sofa,  and  took  a  seat  by 
her  side,  he  waited  in  vain  for  her  to  speak,  so  violenl 
were  her  sobs. 

At  length,  making  a  great  effort,  she  commanded  hei« 
voice,  and  confessed  to  her  father  her  cruelty  to  Alice, 
and  the  bitter  remorse  it  now  caused  her :  "  No  words 
can  describe,"  she  exclaimed,  with  great  excitement, 
"  what  I  have  suffered  since  I  saw  her  lying  motionless 
in  the  wagon  which  brought  her  home." 

Gertrude  did  not  spare  herself,  but  went  on  to  speak 
of  cruel  taunts  about  her  birth,  of  hints'  of  her  depend- 
ance,  and  all  the  long  catalogue  of  her  offences,  just  as 
conscience  was  holding  them  up  to  her  view  ;  but  of 
which  her  father  had  been  wholly  ignorant.  He  was 
obliged  to  put  a  violent  constraint  upon  his  feelings  to 
allow  her  to  proceed. 

"  And  Edith  ?  "  lie  asked  when  she  stopped. 
Gertrude  acknowledged  that  Edith  had  joined  her  in  this 
unkind  treatment ;    but  that  she   herself   had   been  far 
more  to  blame.     "  And  this  is  not  ah1,"  she  continued, 


264  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

covering  her  face  from  her  father's  searching  glance, 
"  Clarence  loves  Alice ;  and  I  have  tried  to  alienate  his 
affections  from  her  ;  I  have"  —  but  here  she  was  entirely 
overcome,  as  her  mind  reverted  to  the  scenes  which  had 
occurred  that  very  morning,  though  it  seemed  as  if  the 
events  of  weeks  had  intervened. 

Mr.  Stanley  perceived  that  the  grief  of  his  daughter 
was  genuine,  —  her  repentance  sincere,  and  he  forbore 
reproof.  After  a  few  moments  of  earnest  conversation, 
he  again  knelt  in  prayer ;  and  this  time  he  was  not  alone ; 
his  subdued  and  tearful  daughter  knelt  beside  him,  and 
never  before  had  she  so  earnestly  joined  in  petitions  for 
pardon  and  peace.  Before  she  left  the  room,  she  gave 
the  best  proof  of  the  sincerity  of  her  sorrow  for  what 
had  passed,  by  requesting  her  father  to  communicate  to 
Clarence  as  much  of  her  confession  as  he  thought  best ; 
and  her  father,  though  deeply  afflicted  at  the  disclosures 
she  had  made,  held  her  to  his  heart  in  a  more  tender  em- 
brace than  for  many  years. 

For  a  short  time  after  she  left  the  study,  he  walked  in 
a  slow  measured  pace  across  the  floor,  pondering  what 
had  passed,  especially  what  she  had  said  of  Clarence  and 
his  affection  for  Alice.  He  had  never  suspected  this ;  and, 
even  now,  he  shook  his  head  as  his  thoughts  recurred 
to  many  events  which  had  taken  place  within  a  few 
weeks.  He  had  long  ago  settled  it  in  his  own  mind, 
that  Gertrude  and  Clarence  were  attached,  and  the 
thought  of  their  union  had  always  been  pleasant.  His 
wife  being  fully  aware  of  this,  had  never  mentioned  the 
change  she  had  perceived  in  the  affections  01  the  young 
lawyer. 


IN    DISGUFSF-. 

Th^n  came  the  thought  of  Edith.  He  could  not  but 
acknowledge  that  the  late  discovery  was  a  blessed  one  to 
him.  The  character  of  Edith,  haughty  and  self-willea, 
he  had  never  fully  understood.  No  one  of  his  children 
had  ever  caused  him  half  the  anxiety,  while  toward  hi? 
beautiful,  loving,  pure-minded  Alice  his  heart  had  always 
warmed  in  a  most  fatherly  manner.  How  vividly  he  re 
called  the  earnest,  beseeching  tones  of  his  wife,  —  as  she 
lay  raised  in  bed,  only  a  few  hours  before  she  breatheu 
her  last.  There  were  Gertrude,  Emma,  and  Edith,  and 
there,  too,  sitting  upon  the  lap  of  Nurse  Carey,  the  little 
Alice.  When  the  dying  woman  had  spoken  a  few  words 
to  each  of  the  former,  she  raised  her  eyes  to  him,  and 
said:  "My  dear  husband,  I  want  you  to  promise  me 
that  this  little  one"  —  feebly  taking  the  hand  of  the 
weeping  child  —  "  shall  remain  here,  and  be  educated 
with  ours,  to  be  treated  as  if  she  were  our  own."  How 
well  he  now  remembered  the  overpowering  emotion  of 
the  Nurse,  as  he  solemnly  promised  compliance  with  her 
\vi>hes  ;  an  emotion  which,  at  the  time,  all  had  attributed 
to  sorrow  at  the  loss  of  her  kind  mistress,  who  had  been 
to  her  and  hers  so  true  a  friend.  He  now  perceived  in 
her  wish,  the  overruling  hand  of  a  kind  Providence,  that 
his  child  might  be  placed  in  circumstances  fitting  her  for 
the  denouement  which  had  taken  place. 

Siill,  while  his  heart  was  overflowing  with  tenderness 
toward  his  long  lost  child,  and  yearning  over  her  in  her 
weakness,  with  irrepressible  love,  he  also  felt  a  strong 
alleciion  toward  the  mature  and  beautiful  girl,  who  had 
/or  so  many  years  called  him  lather.  Not  one  thought 
ot  the  grea<  sin  of  the  mother  hardened  his  heart  toward 

83 


266  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

the  child.  No,  he  was  impelled  by  a  knowledge  of  hei 
character  to  strong  emotions  of  pity  at  the  sufferings  he 
knew  she  would  undergo,  before  she  could  bring  her 
proud  spirit  to  bow  submissively  to  the  condition  she  had 
so  much  despised. 

Educated,  as  she  had  been,  in  refined  society,  accus- 
tomed to  consult  only  her  own  pleasure,  while  she  domi- 
neered over  every  member  of  the  household,  he  was  well 
aware  that,  when  he  offered  her  a  home,  there  would  be 
a  dreadful  struggle  in  her  mind,  before  she  could  bring 
herself  to  assume  the  place  of  a  dependant  on  his  bounty. 
He  longed  to  see  her,  and  try  to  calm  the  deep  waves  of 
trouble  which  threatened  to  overwhelm  her ;  but  so  far, 
she  had  absolutely  refused  to  admit  any  one  to  her  apart- 
ment, and  had  maintained  a  profound  silence,  when  her 
mother  went  to  her,  and  begged  her  to  take  some  food. 

Alice  remained  so  quiet  for  several  hours  that  her 
father  and  mother,  who  occupied  arm-chairs  by  the  side 
of  her  bed,  were  able  to  get  some  sleep.  But  toward 
morning,  when  Clarence,  hoping  from  the  profound  still- 
ness in  the  room,  that  the  patient  was  at  least  not  suffer- 
ing, had  just  retired  to  his  bed  and  fallen  into  a  heavy 
sleep,  was  awakened  by  a  dreadful  shriek,  followed  by  a 
quick  running  to  and' fro  through  the  hall.  He  sprang 
up,  threw  on  his  dressing-gown,  and  returned  to  the 
place  he  had  occupied  most  of  the  night,  near  the  door 
of  his  own  room.  In  one  moment  Emma  came  running 
by,  and  seeing  him  dressed,  said,  quickly,  "  Oh,  Clarence, 
do  run  and  call  James,  and  send  him  for  the  Doctor! 
Alice  is  a  great  deal  worse." 

He  went  in  a  moment,  and  running  to  the  stable,  took 


IN    DISGUISE.  261 

out  his  own  horse,  sprang  into  the  saddle,  and  gave  him- 
self no  time  to  think,  until  he  was  returning  with  the  good 
Doctor  by  his  side.  For  once  the  old  buggy  rattled  along 
as  fast  as  he  could  wish,  and  before  the  anxious  paients 
could  have  supposed  it  possible,  Dr.  Jenks  entered  the 
room. 

At  one  glance,  he  saw  the  danger.  Alice  had  just 
come  out  of  a  convulsion  fit,  in  which  she  had  disar- 
ranged the,  bandages  and  splinters  holding  the  bone  in 
place  ;  and  now,  though  conscious,  lay  pale  and  trem- 
bling with  the  pain.  The  physician  had  no  sooner  ap- 
proached the  bed  than,  without  speaking,  he  returned  to 
the  entry  and  said,  in  a  low  voice,  to  Clarence,  "  We 
must  have  Dr.  Mason  here,  without  any  delay.  Stay," 
he  added,  as  the  young  man  had  already  begun  to  de- 
dccnd  the  stairs,  "  take  my  buggy,  and  don't  fear  for  the 
old  horse.  I  want  him  quickly." 

For  many  miles  around,  Dr.  Jenks  was  famous  for  his 
skill.  He  was  prompt,  energetic,  and  always  cheerful. 
It  was  a  very  unusual  thing  for  him  to  weep  over  his 
patients ;  but  when  he  approached  the  bed,  and  saw  by 
her  faint  smile  that  Alice  recognized  and  welcomed  him, 
he  turned  quickly  away,  while  a  sound  very  much  like  a 
suppressed  sob,  came  from  the  window  near  which  he 
stood.  But  that  was  over  in  a  minute,  and  he  made  in- 
quiries how  she  had  passed  the  night. 

"  We  must  prevent  the  return  of  the  convulsions,"  he 
said,  in  a  low  tone,  "they're  ugly  things  where  a  bone  is 
out  of  place."  He  did  not  think  it  necessary  at  that 
time  to  distress  the  father's  heart  by  saying  that  he 
feared,  also,  they  were  the  result  of  some  greater  injury. 


268  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

He  therefore  administered  a  soothing  powder,  tenderly 
unloosed  the  bandages,  hoping  by  that  time  Dr.  Mason 
would  arrive.  Nor  was  he  disappointed,  for  hearing  a 
quick  step  up  the  stairs,  the  young  surgeon  hastily  en- 
tered the  room. 

"  There,  dear,"  said  the  old  Doctor,  soothingly,  "  Jet 
your  father  hold  your  arm.  It  will  hurt  badly  for  a 
minute  ;  but  'twill  soon  be  over.  Here,  Mrs.  Stanley, 
this  side,  if  you  please.  Now,  Dr.  Mason,  we're  all 
ready." 

The  bone  slipped  back  again  with  a  grating  sound, 
and  the  poor  girl  quickly  gasped  for  breath. 

Though  the  physicians  agreed  that  it  must  have  been 
more  painful  than  the  first  setting,  as  it  had  begun  to 
swell  badly  ;  yet  she  bore  it  without  a  groan.  Emma 
sprang  for  the  cordial,  and  moistened  her  lips. 

"  There  now,"  said  the  good  old  man,  "that  was  hand- 
somely done ;  but,  child,  don't  ever  try  to  restrain  your- 
self so  again;  let  the  screams  come,  they're  nature, 
and  wont  hurt  any  body ;  not  half  as  much  as  it  will 
you  to  hold  the  teeth  so  tightly  as  you  did." 

By  this  time  the  surgeon  had  nicely  supported  the  arm 
in  a  frame,  and  the  gentle  sufferer  rejoiced  their  hearts 
by  whispering  that  she  was  greatly  relieved.  Quite  a 
circle  had  gathered  around  her  bed,  and  Clarence,  almost 
unconsciously,  had  joined  them.  Alice  was  now  per- 
fectly conscious.  She  looked,  feebly,  from  one  to  an- 
other ;  at  length,  her  eye  met  his,  and  that  one  glance 
conveyed  to  her  a  world  of  bliss.  It  was  too  much  of 
happiness  for  her  feeble  frame.  She  closed  her  eyes  and 
for  a  moment  appeared  to  have  fainted. 


IN    DISGUISE.  i2G9 

Dr.  Jenks,  who  was  closely  watching  her,  noticed   the 
effect  of  the  glance  without   understanding  the  cause. 
"  Bear  away  there,  young  man,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice 
"the  sight  of  your  haggard,  cadaverous  face  is  enough 
to  frighten  well  persons,  —  let  alone  the  sick." 

All  turned  to  Clarence,  whose  appearance  did  indeed 
justify  the  doctor's  description.  His  eyes  were  sunken, 
and  there  was  a  dreadful  pallor  about  his  mouth.  He 
left  the  room ;  and  the  physician  followed  him,  saying, 
"  Here,  young  man,  let's  try  your  pulse." 

"  No,"  said  Clarence,  withdrawing  his  arm ;  "  it's  only 
the  loss  of  sleep.  I  have  had  none  for  forty-eight  hours." 

"  Why,  then,  in  the  name  of  common  sense,  don't 
you  go  to  bed  ?  It's  lucky  the  loss  of  a  few  hours'  sleep 
don't  affect  me  so." 

The  whirling,  dizzy  feeling  in  his  head  warned  Clar- 
ence that  he  had  better  take  this  advice ;  and,  throwing 
himself  upon  his  couch,  he  slept  until  near  noon,  when 
Uncle  Stephen  gayly  informed  him,  that,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  morphine,  a  thorough  examination  had  taken 
place,  and  the  physicians  were  agreed  in  the  opinion  that 
she  had  sustained  no  internal  injury.  The  good  old  man, 
to  whom  tears  were  the  most  natural  expression  both  of 
his  joy  and  sorrow,  sobbed  as  he  concluded  :  "  It's  'most 
too  good  news  for  an  old  sinner  like  me."  While  his 
ward  was  dressing,  he  stepped  to  and  fro  around  the 
room,  passing  him  his  cravat  and  slippers,  or  stooping  to 
pick  up  the  brush  which  had  fallen  to  the  floor.  If  his 
heart  had  not  been  occupied,  Clarence  could  hardly  have 
suppressed  a  smile  at  this  unusual  attention.  But  Unclt; 
23* 


270  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

Stephen  was  happy,  and  needed  to  do  something  out  of 
the  common  course  to  express  his  joy. 

When  the  lawyer  finished  his  toilet,  and  went  below, 
he  found  all  was  indeed  changed ;  though  the  family  am1 
servants  spoke  in  subdued  tones,  yet  the  deep  sadness 
was  gone.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stanley  almost  smiled  as  thej' 
met  him,  while  Emma  appeared  as  if  she  could  hardly 
contain  her  joy.  She  gave  her  hand  twice  to  Clarence 
without  being  aware  of  it,  as  she  whispered,  "  I'm  so 
happy  that  it's  over,  and  we  know  the  worst,  dear,  dear 
Alice !  " 

While  they  were  talking,  Gertrude  came  to  the  door, 
and  then  silently  retreated  upon  perceiving  who  were 
present. 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Emma,  "  you  can't  tell  how  sorry 
sister  is.  She  has  confessed  everything  to  father ;  and 
he  says,  though  it  was  a  great  shock  to  him,  to  know 
that  she  had  indulged  such  feelings,  yet  he  hopes  much 
from  this  affliction.  She  told  him  how  she  had  deceived 
you,"  she  added,  lowering  her  voice.  "  She  took  all  the 
blame,  and  said  she  had  influenced  Edith.  Poor  Edith  ! " 
she  continued,  changing  her  tone,  "  mamma  fears  she'll 
starve  herself  to  death,  and  papa  will  insist  upon  going 
in  to  talk  with  her." 

How  Dr.  Jenks  contrived  to  satisfy  his  other  patients, 
I  cannot  tell ;  but,  for  a  few  days,  his  visits  at  Linden- 
wood  were  neither  few  nor  short ;  and  his  cheerful  voice 
and  ready  joke  operated  like  a  charm  upon  all. 

Alice  loved  him  better  than  eve-  and  she  frankly  told 
him  so;  upon  which  occasion  the  good  man  helped  him- 
to  a  kiss  upon  her  pale  cheek,  and  told  over,  to  the 


IN'    DISC  VISE.  271 

amusement  of  the  whole  company,  the  story  of  her 
refusing  him  a  kiss  when  he  asked  for  one,  and  then 
coming  to  him  of  her  own  accord,  when  she  found  he 
did  not  mean  to  insist.  "  Oh  !  "  said  he,  "  if  I'd  had  the 
experience  when  I  was  young  that  1  have  now,  ther* 
would  have  been  some  cracking." 

The  only  bad  result  of  his  frequent  visits  was  a  feeling 
of  jealousy  which  was  growing  up  in  Uncle  Stephen's 
heart  toward  the  physician,  though,  if  any  one  had 
accused  him  of  it,  he  would  have  scorned  the  idea  that 
Alice  would  love  the  jolly  old  man  as  well  as  she  did 
him. 

But  the  young  girl  esteemed  her  physician  for  some- 
thing more  than  his  cheerful,  happy  temperament,  or 
even  for  his  skill.  A  more  enduring  tie  united  them. 
He  had  long  recognized  in  the  young  disciple  a  desire  to 
follow  the  example  of  the  same  Master  whom  he  was 
trying  to  serve.  Never,  in  the  course  of  his  long  practice, 
had  he  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  call  of  the  poor.  He 
recognized,  in  all  the  suffering  children  of  distress  and 
poverty,  a  claim  to  his  time  and  attention,  as  creatures 
endowed  with  souls  to  be  fitted  for  happiness;  and  he 
literally  obeyed  the  inspired  precept,  "  Do  good  unto  all 
as  ye  have  opportunity,  especially  unto  such  as  are  of 
the  household  of  faith." 

And  his  young  patient  was  comforted  by  the  words 
of  peace  he  breathed  in  her  ear  as  he  tenderly  bent  over 
her.  "  There,  dear,"  he  said  at  one  time,  when  she  was 
Buffering  severely,  "think  of  what  your  heavenly  Father 
says,  '  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace  whose  souJ 
is  stayed  on  thee.  Lift  up  your  heart  to  him,  child." 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

44  The  heart  is,  like  the  sky,  a  part  of  heaven, 

But  changes,  night  and  day,  too,  like  the  sky ; 
Now  o'er  it  clouds  and  thunder  must  be  driven, 

And  darkness  and  destruction,  as  on  high; 
But  when  it  hath  been  scorch'd,  and  pien'd,  and  riven, 

Its  storms  expire  in  water-drops ;  the  eye 
Pours  forth  at  last  the  heart's  blood  turned  to  tears." 

Byron. 

THE  numerous  calls  from  the  village  to  make  inquiries 
for  Miss  Alice  Stanley  proved  the  truth  of  the  doctor's 
statement  in  regard  to  the  estimation  in  which  she  was 
held.  Not  only  carriage  after  carriage,  containing  friends 
anxious  to  ascertain  exactly  her  situation,  drove  up  the 
avenue  to  the  Hall,  but  twice  a  day,  morning  and  even- 
ing, Dexter  Hayden  presented  himself  at  the  door,  and 
in  a  respectful  manner,  said,  "  Will  you  please  to  tell  me 
particularly  how  Miss  Alice  is  ? "  and  when  the  reply, 
"  She  still  continues  comfortable,"  had  been  given  him, 
the  fervent.  "Thank  you!"  showed  that  his  heart  had 
been  in  the  question. 

Mr.  Gates,  too,  often  left  his  welding  and  hammering 
at  an  early  hour,  and,  having  donned  his  Sunday  suit, 
(for  he  now  attended  church  on  the  Sabbath,)  proceeded 
to  Linden  wood,  and  begged  to  hear  from  Miss  Alice, 
saying,  "  My  wife  or  J  should  take  it  as  a  great  favor  if 
we  could  be  allowed  to  be  of  some  service  to  her." 

272 


TIIK     HOI  .SF.HOLD    ANGEL    IN    DISGViSK. 

On  the* third  day  after  the  sad  accident,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Stanley  were  surprised,  as  they  went  up  from  dinner,  to 
see  Nurse  Carey-sitting  by  the  side  of  their  patient  as 
composedly  as  if  she  had  always  retained  that  plane. 
There  was  a  quiet  smile  around  her  mouth,  and  a  look 
of  calm  content  in  her  eye  which  Marion  had  never 
before  seen.  Unobserved  by  Alice,  she  cast  an  imploring 
glance  upon  the  father,  who  saw  the  wisdom  of  allowing 
her  to  remain. 

The  young  girl  was  yet  unacquainted  with  the  change 
which  had  come  over  her  prospects.  The  names  "  Fa- 
ther" and  "  Mother"  had  become  so  familiar  to  her  that 
she  did  not  notice  how  spontaneously  the  response, "  My 
child,"  flowed  from  that  father's  lips.  She  did,  indeed, 
think  he  exhibited  toward  her  a  father's  tenderness;  and 
the  artless,  earnest  tone  in  which  she  uttered  her  thanks 
rendered  it  at  times  almost  impossible  for  hiri  to  refrain 
from  telling  her  she  was  his  own. 

The  appearance  of  her  mother  she  would  naturally 
expect,  and,  indeed,  her  skill  at  nursing  rendered  her  a 
real  treasure.  With  the  divulging  of  the  secret  which 
had  preyed  upon  her  conscience  for  so  many  years,  she 
had  thrown  away  all  the  reserve  and  gloom  which,  even 
during  her  seasons  of  returning  reason,  had  shrouded 
her  like  a  thick  veil;  and  now,  being  assured  by  Mr. 
Stanley  of  his  entire  forgiveness,  she  acknowledged  that 
if  she  could  conquer  the  fear  of  her  daughter,  whom  she 
had  not  seen  since  their  relation  had  been  made  known 
to  her,  she  should  be  the  happiest  person  living. 

In  free  conversation  with  Mrs.  Stanley,  she  confessed 
the  reason  for  her  strange  conduct  toward  Alice,  which 


274  TIIK    HOUSEHOLD    ANGKI. 

had  heretofore  appeared  so  unaccountable.  Knowing 
herself  to  be  unfit  to  influence  a  pure,  artless  girl  like 
the  one  whom  she  claimed  for  her  child,  she  had  endeav- 
ored, especially  since  the  interest  manifested  in  her  by 
that  lady,  to  wean  Alice's  affections  from  herself,  thai 
sne  might  learn  to  live  wholly  at  the  Hall,  and  thus  be 
prepared  for  the  time  when  the  present  discovery  shoulc 
take  place. 

But  it  is  high  time  that  we  turn  from  this  pleasanter 
scene  to  a  room  at  the  other  corner  of  the  house,  —  far, 
far  pleasanter  and  brighter,  even  amidst  constant  suffer- 
ing, than  that  one  within  whose  walls  was  raging  a 
mighty  war.  I  have  heretofore  said  that  Edith  refused 
to  admit  any  one  to  her  apartment.  Whether  it  were 
the  voice  of  him  whom  she  had  so  long  known  as  father, 
or  the  lowest  servant  in  the  establishment,  for  all  had 
attempted  it,  the  success  was  the  same.  On  the  second 
day  a  small  portion  of  the  food  which  had  been  left  at 
her  door  had  disappeared ;  and  during  the  second  night 
Mrs.  Stanley  from  her  window  had  seen  a  tall  form  pass 
and  repass.  with  hasty  and  uncertain  steps,  up  and  down 
thti  avenue  before  the  house.  But  on  the  morning  of 
the  third  day  no  one  had  seen  Edith  face  to  face.  What 
course  she  intended  or  wished  to  pursue  no  one  could 
even  imagine.  Mr.  Stanley  determined  to  wait  no  longer. 
Retiring  to  his  study,  he  wrote  her  a  long,  kind  letter, 
such  as  a  Christian  father  would  write  to  an  afflicte  i 
child.  In  it  he  expressed  a  fond  affection  for  her,  an  1 
entreated  her  to  return  to  the  family,  who  all  longed  f  >r 
an  opportunity  to  prove  to  her  that  she  was  welcome  to 
the  place  she  had  held.  He  told  her  that  he  had  fully 


IN    DISGUISE.  6ti) 

and  freely  forgiven  her  mother,  and  that  he  now  trans- 
ferred the  promise  he  made  to  his  dying  wife  in  behalf 
of  Alice,  to  herself.  He  closed  by  expressing  the  hope 
that  he  might  receive  an  answer  in  person,  arid  then 
subjoined  these  words  : 

"  I  take  pleasure,  dear  Edith,  in  signing  myself,  as  of 
old,  Your  very  affectionate  father, 

HUGH   STANLEY." 

Wishing  that  the  letter  should  suggest  all  the  feelings 
of  his  heart,  he  showed  it  to  his  wife,  who  read  it  with 
tearful  eyes,  and  rewarded  him  with  a  smile  of  perfect 
approbation,  as  she  said,  "  The  heart  must  be  indeed 
hard  which  responds  not  to  such  an  appeal."  It  was 
then  sent  to  her  room  by  a  servant,  who  was  ordered,  if 
she  did  not  reply,  to  push  the  letter  under  the  door,  and 
to  tell  Edith  she  had  been  directed  to  wait  for  an  answer. 
The  latter  course  she  pursued,  after  knocking  repeatedly, 
and,  on  returning  half  an  hour  later,  found  a  sealed 
note  addressed  to  Mr.  Hugh  Stanley,  Esq.  It  was  as 
follows  : 

"  Mr.  Stanley,  —  I  have  read  your  note,  and  suppose  1 
ought  to  say  I  thank  you  for  it;  but  you  never  loved  me, 
and  I  cannot  say  that  I  have  ever  given  you  reason  t<> 
do  so.  Still,  I  thank  you  that,  by  giving  rne  a  good 
education,  yon  have  placed  it  in  my  power  to  gain  my 
bread  independently  of  any  one.  I  have  not  yet  decided 
what  I  shall  do.  When  I  have,  you  .-hall  be  the  firs* 
one  informed  of  it,  from  the  interest  yon  say  you  tidie  w 


276  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

my  welfare.     Till  that  time,  I  only  ask  that  1  may  have 
the  use  of  the  room  I  now  occupy,  undisturbed. 

"As  for  the  woman  who  claims  to  have  given,  me 
birth,  her  conduct  has  been  such  that  /  cannot  forgive 
her,  if  you  do  ;  and,  as  I  will  never  consent  to  take  her 
name,  and  the  one  to  which  I  have  been  accustomed  has 
been  rudely  taken  from  me,  I  am  at  present  nameless, 
except  EDITH." 

Mr.  Stanley  had  impatiently  awaited  the  answer  to 
his  kind  epistle ;  and,  when  his  wife,  who  had  taken  it 
from  the  servant,  hastened  to  put  it  into  his  hand,  he 
opened  it  eagerly,  hoping,  though  she  had  not  complied 
with  his  request  to  come  to  him,  yet  that  she  had  re- 
sponded to  his  sentiments  with  childlike  affection.  But, 
when  he  had  read  and  re-read  the  cold,  bitter  reply,  he 
sighed  as  he  placed  it,  without  a  word,  in  the  hand  of 
his  wife. 

Marion's  eyes  rilled  with  tears  as  she  perused  its 
contents.  "  Poor,  poor  Edith  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  She 
is  her  own  greatest  enemy.  How  differently  our  dear 
Alice  would  have  replied  !  " 

"  Edith  is  differently  constituted,"  said  her  husband, 
in  an  apologizing  tone.  "  I  have  no  doubt  she  is  driv'en 
almost  to  madness  by  her  conflict  between  pride  and 
conscience,  while  Alice  is  not  only  by  nature  gentle  and 
yielding,  but  has  a  never-failing  principle  of  right  within 
her  own  breast,  by  which,  however  trying  and  difficult, 
she  endeavors  to  regulate  her  conduct." 

Long  and  earnestly  did  they  discuss  the  subject,  and 
fervently  did  they  imp] ore  wisdom  for  themselves,  and 


IN    DISGUISE.  277 

for  the  poor,  wayward  girl  who  was  thus  throwing  away 
her  hopes  and  happiness.  They  prayed  that  God  would 
humble  her  proud,  rebellious  spirit,  and  enable  her  to 
submit  to  the  dispensations  of  his  will. 

"  Poor,  poor  Edith !  "  Mrs.  Stanley  might  well  exclaim. 
Yet,  when  she  repeated  the  words,  she  had  but  a  faint 
conception  of  the  horrible  thoughts  of  God,  of  the  mur- 
muring at  his  will,  of  the  hatred  she  indulged  against 
the  whole  family,  and  especially  against  the  one  whom 
she  had  so  often  taunted  with  her  low  birth,  all  of  which 
made  the  meat  and  drink  of  the  almost  insane  Edith. 

When  she  first  saw  the  senseless  form  of  Alice  borne 
to  her  chamber,  her  natural  sympathies  were  warmly 
enlisted. ,  She  shuddered  at  the  thought  that  Alice  might 
die,  —  die  with  her  words  of  taunting  unforgiven, —  and 
she  clung  to  Gertrude  in  her  affright ;  but  the  moment 
her  mother's  confession  met  her  ear,  it  struck  conviction 
of  its  truthfulness  to  her  heart.  She  waited  for  no 
proof;  she  needed  none.  She  had  often  asked  herself 
the  question,  "  Why  am  I  so  unlike  my  sisters,  —  in 
everything  unlike  them  ?  "  She  rushed  to  her  own  apart- 
ment, which  of  late  she  had  occupied  alone,  and  shut 
herself  in. 

For  several  hours  she  was  stunned,  or  rather  para- 
lyzed, by  the  shock.  When  the  horrible  shrieks  of  Alice 
rang  through  the  house,  filling  every  other  heart  with  u 
shuddering  compassion  for  the  poor  sufferer,  she  only 
laughed  a  bitter  laugh,  as  she  thought,  how  cheaply  Alice 
had  purchased  her  future  prospects,  and  how  willingly 
fhe  would  suffer  anything  which  could  be  inflicted  to  be 
restored  to  the  position  she  had  held  only  a  few  hours 
24 


278  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL, 

before.  Though  of  all  the  family,  to  Ediih  hal  always 
been  ascribed  more  of  pride  of  rank  and  station  than 
any  other  member ;  yet  she  thought  she  had  never 
rightly  prized  them  until  now,  when  they  were  forever 
snatched  from  her  grasp.  She  knew,  she  felt  sure,  that 
her  father  and  mother,  nay,  that  every  one  in  the  family, 
would  rejoice  at  the  change.  How  she  hated  them,  as 
she  thought  of  it.  She  was  well  aware  that  she  had  oc- 
casioned her  parents  great  anxiety ;  that,  though  younger 
than  her  sisters,  she  had  exerted  an  unfavorable  influ- 
ence upon  them,  and  that  over  the  servants  she  had  tyr-  - 
annized.  How  different  with  Alice  ?  Always  beloved, 
now  how  would  she  be  caressed.  Then  came  Uncle  Ste- 
phen, with  his  overweening  fondness  for  his -favorite. 
She  felt,  yes,  it  was  so,  she  hated  him  worse  than  all. 
No,  there  was  one,  and  that  one  the  mother  who  bore 
her,  whom  she  never  would  see,  never  forgive.  Call  her 
MOTHER,  the  insane  hag !  Her  blood  chilled  as  she  re- 
verted to  the  prophetic  words  so  lately  heard  from  hei 
lips,  "  Beware,  the  hour  of  retribution  is  at  hand !  "  Call 
her  mother  !  No  !  Sooner  would  she  allow  her  tongue 
to  be  cut  from  her  mouth. 

Not  one  tear  moistened  her  blood-shot  eyes ;  not  yet 
came  one  thought  to  soften  her  obdurate,  stubborn  heart. 
All  was  wild  chaos  and  confusion.  When  she  heard  the 
step  of  her  mother  come  out  of  the  sick  room,  and  her 
voice  softly  pleading,  "  Edith,  rny  dear  child,  admit  your 
mother,"  she  only  laughed  her  to  scorn.  "  No,"  was  ber 
proud  thought,  "  she  shall  never  see  me  suffer.  Low 
as  I  have  fallen,  I  will  never  stoop  to  that ; "  and  she 
shut  her  heart  firmly  to  every  tender  emotion.  Wholly 


IN    DISGUISE. 

engrossed  as  she  was  in  her  own  condition,  she  yet 
seemed  almost  snpernaturally  alive  to  every  sound.  Xoi 
a  step  or  whisper  in  the  hall  through  that  long,  long 
night,  escaped  her,  a  night  followed  by  days  of  suffering 
to  which,  in  after  years,  she  looked  back  with  the  wonde; 
that  God  did  not  wholly  forsake  her,  and  leave  her  to  do 
that  which  more  than  once  suggested  itself  to  her  mind. 
lake  her  own  life. 

When  the  gray  morning  dawned,  the  day  which 
brought  such  cheering  words  of  hope  to  the  tender  parents 
with  regard  to  their  sweet  child,  it  brought  no  blessings  to 
her  heart.  All,  all  was  dark  ;  all  was  rebellious.  "  What 
have  I  done  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  "  to  bring  such  a  fate 
upon  myself!  Cruel,  unjust  fate,  I  will  never  submit  to 
it !  "  She  walked,  and  walked,  and  wrung  her  hands, 
untii,  overcome  with  the  thoughts  which  forced  them- 
selves into  her  mind,  she  threw  herself  upon  the  bed,  cry- 
ing, "  Oh,  why  was  I  born  ?  " 

But  such  a  state  of  mind  could  not  last  forever.  So 
far  she  had  justified  herself,  while  all  others  had  been 
guilty  of  the  greatest  injustice  to  her.  When  conscience 
whispered,  its  gentle  voice  had  been  instantly  hushed  : 
now  it  thundered  that  it  would  Be  heard,  and  Edith,  m: 
longer  proudly  erect,  with  haughty  mien  and  flashing 
eye,  bows  her  head  lower  and  lower  upon  her  breast,  as 
it  holds  the  mirror  of  truth  before  her,  and  conviires 
her  of  her  sin.  The  view  is  too  appalling,  and  she  cries 
aloud,  "  I  will  not  hear!  I  will  not  see!  "  but  it  will  no 
longer  restrain  its  warning  voice. 

"  With  whom,  vain  girl !  "  it  cries,  "  are  you  contend- 


280 THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"  With  the  one  who  calls  me  her  child  —  with  this 
family  —  with  my  destiny." 

«  What  is  destiny  ?  " 

"  That  which  is  to  be." 

"  But  have  those  you  name  power  over  your  destiny  ?" 

«  No,  I  defy  them.'' 

«  Who,  then,  does  control  it  ?  " 

«  God." 

"  It  is,  then,  your  Maker  with  whom  you  are  jontend- 
ing.  Horrible  impiety  !  I  wonder  he  does  not  consume 
you  with  the  breath  of  his  mouth." 

"  But  it  is  hard,  it  is  cruel,  that  all  my  high  hopes,  all 
my  ardent  expectations  of  happiness,  should  in  one  brief 
moment  be  dashed  to  the  ground." 

"  Dare  you  accuse  God  of  injustice  ?  Look  again. 
You  were  born  of  ignoble  parents.  Your  mother  longed 
to  place  you  in  a  situation  far  above  her  own,  where  her 
pride  could  be  gratified  by  seeing  one  who  was  bone  of 
her  bone,  caressed  and  cherished  as  their  own  by  the 
scions  of  a  noble  house.  To  do  this  she  defrauded  them 
of  what  they  prized  more  than  gold  or  landed  estates, 
and  reduced  their  cherished  one  to  her  own  low  condi 
tion.  For  wise  purposes  God  allowed  this  to  be.  You 
were  placed  in  circumstances  of  ease  and  comfort.  She 
whose  right  they  were,  was  a  dependant  upon  their 
bounty.  You  were  cherished,  educated,  and,  but  for  your 
imperious  temper,  might  have  been  dearly  loved.  Mow 
did  you  receive  these  privileges  ?  As  your  right  not  only, 
but  as  giving  you  power  to  taunt  and  triumph  over  those 
who  enjoyed  them  not,  while  she  whose  position  in  life 
you  had  usurped,  received  your  taunts  in  the  spirit  of 
meekness,  and  earnesly  prayed  for  her  persecutor." 


IN    DISGUISE  281 

u  No  more,  no  more  !     1  cannot  bear  it !  " 

"  Then  how  have  you  obeyed  the  divine  comrr.  and, 
*  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother  '  ?  You  have  openly 
disregarded  it.  You  have  set  your  will  in  defiance  of 
those  placed  over  you;  have  opposed  their  indulgence 
with  ingratitude,  their  kindness  with  hatred,  and  now 
you  complain  that  they  treat  you  with  gross  injustice." 

"  Perhaps  they  have  not  been  as  much  to  blame  as  I 
at  first  imagined  ;  but  certainly  it  was  a  cruel  kindness 
to  allow  me  to  cherish  hopes  and  expectations  of  future 
happiness,  and  then  dash  them  to  the  ground." 

"  Rebellious  girl,  forbear  !  How  dare  you  utter  such 
words  against  your  Maker,  who  may  at  any  moment  call 
you  to  your  last  account  ?  It  is  only  by  his  infinite  for- 
bearance you  have  lived  and  breathed.  Has  not  the  pot- 
ter power  over  the  clay  to  make  one  vessel  unto  honor 
and  another  unto  dishonor  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  the  poor  girl,  in  an  agony  of  remorse,  "  I 
see  it  all !  Yes,  I  see  my  sins ;  they  rise  like  a  moun- 
tain before  me  ;  "  and  for  the  first  time  tears  gushed  forth 
to  her  relief.  For  hours  she  wept,  while  the  remembrance 
of  the  indulgence  of  her  parents,  the  slighted  affection  of 
her  sisters,  whom  she  had  so  often  wounded  by  unkind- 
ness  ;  her  scornful  treatment  of  her  foster-sister,  and  last, 
but  not  least,  the  course;  she  had  pursued  with  Mr.  Hunt- 
ington,  wl.om  she  had  never  ceased  to  love,  caused  her 
to  sink  lower  and  lower  in  her  own  estimation.  Had  the 
kind  letter  of  Mr.  Stanley  reached  her  then,  the  answer 
would  have  been  different.  She  was  softened  and  sub- 
dued, and  now  thoroughly  exhausted,  she  threw  herself 
upon  her  bed,  and  slept  until  day. 
24* 


282  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

After  partaking  very  sparingly  from  the  tempting  re- 
past left  at  the  doer,  Edith  stood  gazing  abstractedly 
from  the  window,  which  commanded  a  view  of  the  side 
entrance.  She  sighed  deeply  as  she  saw  one  of  the  ser- 
vants at  work  in  the  garden,  and  others  passing  and  re- 
passing  from  the  kitchen  to  a  wood-shed  in  the  rear.  "  1 
have  no  right  here  ;  these  things  are  nothing  to  me  ! "  she 
exclaimed,  while  the  unbidden  tears  trickled  down  her 
cheeks,  from  which  the  brilliant  color  had  entirely  disap- 
peared. 

At  that  moment  she  saw  a  figure  leave  the  cottage  at 
the  gate,  and  approachjthe  Hall.  At  the  sight  of  her, 
Edith  drew  up  her  form  to  its  full  height,  her  nostrils 
dilated,  and,  with  an  exclamation  of  bitter  reproach,  she 
turned  hastily  away.  "  Fool,  why  could  she  not  let  it 
remain  so  !  It  would  have  made  r.o  essential  difference 

with  Alice,  while  with  me /'  Jnst  at  this  time  it 

was  when  she  received  the  lei/ jr  ^om  Mr.  Stanley,  offer- 
ing her  the  place  of  an  adopt/ ,d  raiJcl.  Her  first  thought 
was  to  accept  it,  and  be  grateful  for  his  kindness.  But 
the  mention  of  the  fact  that  he  had  forgiven  her  mother, 
turned  her  gratitude  to  bitterness,  and  under  the  influ- 
ence of  this  feeling  she  Ijad  written  her  reply.  Yet  it  was 
no  sooner  beyond  her  reach  than  she  would  have  given 
anything  to  recall  it.  She  again  perused  the  letter,  and 
while  he  was  grieving  over  her  cold  note,  she  was  in  an 
agony  of  remorse,  caused  by  his  fatherly  one. 

Thus  day  after  day  passed  on  with  quick  alternations 
in  her  heart  of  stubbornness  and  compliance.  Every 
step  which  drew  near  her  door  caused  her  heart  to  beat 
more  quickly  ;  and,  as  they  passed  without  speaking,  she 


IN    DISGUISE.  283 

cried  out,  "  they  have  forgotten  me  !  they  love  me  not !  " 
and  her  tears  burst  forth  afresh.  But  when  Mrs.  Stanley 
begged  for  admittance,  with  a  sudden  feeling  of  pride, 
for  which  she  could  not  herself  account,  she  coldly  re- 
fused. 

It  was  now  nearly  a  week  since  the  accident  happened 
which  had  caused  such  unforeseen  results.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Stanley  became  seriously  alarmed,  lest  this  continued 
confinement  might  affect  the  reason  of  the  poor  girl. 
They  had  long  ago  consulted  their  kind  physician  in  ref- 
erence to  the  course  they  should  pursue,  and  he  was  fully 
of  the  opinion  that  any  attempt  to  use  force  would  only 
aggravate  the  case.  But  they  could  not  be  persuaded  to 
delay  much  longer  some  more  decided  measures.  Once, 
only,  had  they  heard  her  voice,  and  then  it  was  so  hoarse 
and  unnatural  that  it  could  hardly  be  recognized.  This 
was  on  the  occasion  of  Mrs.  Stanley  calling  for  admit- 
tance in  earnest  tones  of  entreaty.  She  felt  that  if  she 
could  only  talk  with  Edith  face  to  face,  that  she  could 
prevail  upon  her  to  throw  away  all  her  pride,  and  all  her 
reserve,  and  to  return  to  her  place  as  a  daughter  in  the 
family;  but,  after  waiting  so  long  for  a  reply  that  she 
was  on  the  point  of  turning  away,  a  sound  in  the  closed 
room  recalled  her,  "  If  you  wish  to  render  me  still  more 
wretched  than  I  am,  it  is  in  your  power  to  do  so  by  try- 
ing to  intrude  upon  my  grief." 

The  words  were  scarcely  uttered  before  Edith  wou  1 
have  given  worlds  to  recall  them.  She  sat  down  on  the 
bed,  and  buried  her  face  in  the  pillow,  while  she  sobbed 
and  sobbed  until  she  could  do  so  no  'onger.  She  be- 
came really  alarmed  about  herself,  and  fearful  of  losing 


284  "         THE    HOUSEHOLD     OfGEL 

hei  reason, —  perhaps  her  life, —  and  conscience  had  al- 
ready taught  her  that  she  was  not  prepared  to  die.  "  I 
must  get  away  from  this  place  !  "  she  exclaimed,  '••  and 
the  sooner  the  better !  "  The  thought  of  applying  to  her 

old  teacher,  at  T ,  for  a  situation  as  under-teache*. 

flashed  through  her  mind.  She  started  to  her  feet.  "  I 
will  do  it.  Yes,  that  is  my  best  plan.  Why  have  I  not 
thought  of  it  before  ?  " 

Want  of  energy  and  decision  was  not  one  of  Edith's 
faults,  and  in  an  hour  her  whole  plan  of  operations  was 
arranged.  A  few  clothes,  packed  in  a  small  carpet-bag, 
and,  with  the  exception  of  her  riding  dress  and  bonnet, 
she  was  ready  for  a  start  whenever  a  favorable  time 
should  arrive.  The  latter  articles  were  in  Gertrude's 
room,  and  she  only  waited  until  the  family  were  at  tea, 
before  she  glided  across  the  entry,  and,  unperceived  by 
any  one,  conveyed  them  to  her  room.  Now  that  she  had 
formed  a  plan,  she  was  more  composed  than  she  had 
been  for  a  week.  The  night  was  calm  and  clear.  The 
moon  would  rise  by  eleven,  and  before  the  morning 
dawned  she  intended  to  be  far  on  her  way. 

That  night,  just  as  Mrs.  Stanley  was  falling  asleep,  she 
was  aroused  by  hearing  a  muffled  sound  of  a  horse  pass- 
ing down  the  fr,ont  avenue.  Her  first  thought  was  that 
Dr.  Jenks  had  been  going  past  the  house,  and  seeing 
lights,  had  called  to  inquire  for  his  patient ;  but  a  second 
thought  convinced  her  that  he  would  not  come  at  so  late 
an  hour,  after  leaving  her  comfortable  in  the  afternoon. 
She  sprang  up  and  looked  from  the  window  ;  but,  though 
she  could  now  distinctly  hear  the  sound  of  a  horse  going 
at  full  speed,  yet  the  foliage  of  the  trees  was  too  thick 


IN    DISGUISE.  385 

for  her  to  perceive  either  the  animal  or  his  rider.  Think- 
ing it  not  best  to  awaken  her  husband,  she  returned  to 
her  bed,  and  soon  fell  asleep. 

The  mystery  was  solved  in  the  morning,  for,  as  Mr. 
Stanley  was  going  into  the  breakfast-room,  the  coachman 
entered,  with  a  perturbed  manner,  and  informed  him  that 
upon  going  to  the  stable  he  found  Felix  standing  outside 
the  door,  neighing  for  admittance.  "  Miss  Alice's  saddle 
was  on  him,"  continued  the  man,  "  and  the  little  whip 
was  carefully  tied  by  the  tassel  to  the  pummel." 

Mrs.  Stanley  then  related  what  she  had  heard  in  the 
night,  and  the  name  "  Edith,"  from  Gertrude,  suggested 
who  the  rider  must  have  been.  Emma  flew  to  her  room, 
and  instantly  returned  with  an  open  note,  which  she  had 
found  in  the  vacant  chamber.  It  was  without  direction, 
but  she  placed  it  in  her  father's  hands.  It  was  simply 
announcing  her  determination  to  leave  Lindenwood,  and 
hereafter  to  provide  for  herself;  and  closed  with  saying 
that  when  she  reached  her  destination  she  would  let  them 
know  where  she  was. 

With  the  simple  words  "  Deluded  girl !  "  he  read  it 
aloud  to  the  assembled  family,  who  were  all  much  af- 
fected at  her  sudden  departure. 


CHAPTER     XXIV. 

"  Oh,  what  passions  then, 
What  melting  sentiments  of  kindly  care, 
On  the  new  parents  seize."  —  Thomson. 

A  FORTNIGHT  had  now  elapsed  since  Alice  Carey  had 
become  Alice  Stanley,  and  Dr.  Jenks  assured  them  there 
was  no  reason  for  delaying  longer  to  inform  her  of  the 
fact,  especially  as  she  often  expressed  wonder  that  Edith 
had  not  been  in  to  see  her.  Gertrude  had  sought  an 
opportunity,  when  alone  with  her  sister,  to  beg  her  for- 
giveness for  all  the  unkindness  she  had  srown,  to  which 
Alice  promptly  replied,  "  All  is  forgotten,  dear  Gertrude, 
save  the  unwearied  tenderness  you  have  exhibited  since 
I  was  sick."  From  that  time  the  elder  sister  constituted 
herself  head  nurse,  and  never  was  Alice  more  pleased 
than  with  the  affectionate  care  with  which  her  beloved 
sister  now  administered  to  her  wants. 

"  You  will  spoil  me  with  kindness,  dear  Gertrude," 
she  said,  one  day,  as  the  latter,  after  having  moistened 
her  hair,  was  rolling  the  long  ringlets  around  her  fingers, 
(;  I  wonder  how  long  it  will  be  before  I  can  make  my 
own  toilet  ?  " 

"  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  replied  her  sister, "  I  hope 
not  for  a  long  time,  for  I  was  never  more  happy  than  at 
present." 

The  young  patient  made  no  reply,  though  her  heart 
was  swelling  with  emotion.  She  lay  wilh  her  eyes  fixed 

286 


Till;     110 1  SKHOLD    ANGEL    IN    DISGUISE.  287 

upon  the  beautiful  countenance  so  near  her  own.  There 
was  a  soft  and  pleasant  light  in  the  eye,  and  dimples 
playing  about  the  mouth,  while  the  scornful  expression 
which  had  almost  become  habitual  had  wholly  vanished 
"  You  are  very  happy,"  she  said,  at  length. 

"  And  you,  Miss  Curious,  have  been  speculating  upon 
the  cause,  I  suppose,  all  the  time  you  have  been  gazing 
so  earnestly  into  my  face.  What  discoveries  have  you 
made?  See,  I  have  nearly  finished  the  curls  on  this 
side  ;  you  must  be  quick." 

The  heart  of  Alice  beat  wildly.  She  longed  to  ask 
one  question,  but,  as  it  was  upon  a  subject  never  men- 
tioned by  Gertrude,  she  feared  to  offend.  The  young 
lady  certainly  had  greatly  changed.  From  being  petu- 
lant and  averse  to  any  kind  of  labor,  she  was  evidently 
striving  to  become  amiable  and  energetic.  Often  at 
night,  while  she  lay  quietly  sleeping  upon  a  couch  drawn 
to  the  bedside  of  her  sister,  Alice,  rendered  wakeful  by 
her  position,  had  wondered  what  could  be  the  cause. 
She  hesitated  a  moment,  until,  encouraged  by  a  smile, 
she  said,  "Dear  Gertrude,  have  you  learned  to  love  the 
Saviour  ?  " 

The  question  was  wholly  unexpected  ;  and,  with  a 
burst  of  feeling,  Gertrude  dropped  the  brush,  and  hid 
her  face  in  the  pillow.  Her  sobs  were  so  violent  that 
the  invalid  became  alarmed,  and,  putting  her  hand  upon 
her  sister's,  continued,  with  the  utmost  tenderness, ;'  For- 
give me  ;  J  did  not  mean  to  offend." 

In  reply,  Gertrude  warmly  pressed  the  little  hand, 
and  soon  was  sufficiently  composed  to  s;iy,  "  You  have 
not  offended  me  ;  but  indeed,  dear  sister,  I  have  tried 


288  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

to  imitate  your  lovely  example.     I  need  you  to  teach 
me." 

Alice  was  not  the  only  one  to  notice  the  change  in 
the  young  lady.  Since  the  first  sight  of  her  sister  on 
the  day  of  the  dreadful  accident,  she  had  seen  herself  in 
a  new  light.  The  proud,  unyielding  disposition  mani- 
fested by  Edith,  exhibiting  so  strong  a  contrast  to  the 
meek  piety  of  Alice,  made  her  shudder  at  the  remem- 
brance of  the  anger  and  jealousy  she  had  indulged,  and 
she  had  become  earnest  in  her  desire  to  reform.  She 
had  lived  too  long  in  a  Christian  family  not  to  be  aware 
that  she  needed  something  beyond  her  own  strength  to 
enable  her  to  carry  out  her  resolutions  of  amendment; 
and  she  had  begun  to  pray  for  help  to  subdue  her  irrita- 
bility and  indolence,  and  for  assistance  to  cultivate  the 
graces  of  meekness  and  courtesy.  The  question  of 
Alice  opened  her  heart,  and,  after  she  become  more 
composed,  was  followed  by  a  delightful  conversation, 
the  influence  of  which  upon  their  mutual  affection  was 
never  forgotten  by  either. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  in  question,  the  kind 
physician  had  promised  her  parents  to  come  up  and 
communicate  to  Alice  the  surprising  discovery  that  she 
was  not  only  the  adopted,  but  the  real,  daughter  of 
Mr.  Stanley —  an  event  to  which  the  whole  household 
were  looking  forward  with  great  interest.  Uncle  Stephen 
had  been  playfully  forbidden  by  Gertrude  to  enter  the 
gick  room  through  the  morning,  lest  the  mysterious  air 
which  he  in  vain  tried  to  conceal  should  arrest  the  atten- 
tion of  the  invalid.  It  was  for  this  occasion  that  Ger- 
trude had  been  making  so  elaborate  a  display  of  ringlets , 


IN    DISGUISE.  289 

and  now  her  mother  and  Emma  were  called  to  assist  in" 
arraying  her  in  the  snow-white  wrapper  which  had  been 
prepared  for  her.     A  narrow  frill  was  basted  into   the 
neck,  and  her  elder  sister  took  out  her  own  brooch,  and 
fastened  the  dress  in  front. 

"  Now,  if  that  old  frame  were  out  of  the  way,"  ex- 
rlaimed  Emma,  "  all  would  do  well.  Every  thing  else 
is  ready." 

"  Are  you  expecting  company  ?  "  asked  Alice,  gayly. 

Emma,  fearing  she  had  betrayed  herself,  was  hasten- 
ing to  turn  the  subject,  when  the  voice  of  her  father, 
talking  with  a  man  in  the  lower  hall,  arrested  her 
attention. 

"  I'm  sartain  it's  the  place,"  said  the  stranger,  in  a 
loud  voice,  'cause  it  says,  plain  enough,  '  Care  of  Hugh 
Stanley,  Esq.,  Lindenwood,  Queenstown,  for  Miss  Alice.' 
There !  you  can  read  it  for  yourself." 

"  Yes,"  responded  Mr.  Stanley,  musingly ;  "  but  I 
can't  imagine  what  it  is,  or  who  it  came  from." 

"  It  came  direct  from  New  York,"  continued  the  man, 
"  and,  if  you'll  say  where  you  want  it  carried,  I'll  take 
it  there  while  my  men  are  here.  It's  considerable  large, 
though  'taint  so  dreadful  heavy." 

Gertrude  and  Emma,  who,  during  the  above  conver- 
sation, had  been  standing  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  now 
ran  clown,  and  Uncle  Stephen  followed  them. 

Emma  borrowed  her  father's  knife,  and  began  to  cut 
the  cords  which  se\ved  the  matting,  wondering  what  the 
awkwardly  shaped  thing  could  be.  She  had  no  sooner 
pulled  it  away  far  enough  to  discover  that,  whatever  it 
was,  the  article  was  covered  with  a  beautiful  shade  of 
25 


290  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

blue  velvet,  than  she  earnestly  begged  to  hav/3  it  carried 
to  Alice's  room,  that  she  might  have  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing her  curious  present. 

"  Let  alone  the  women  for  finding  out  secrets,"  said 
the  man,  looking  admiringly  at  the  animated  counte- 
nance of  Emma.  "  They  beat  us  men-folks  out  and  out." 

As  Mr.  Stanley  willingly  consented,  the  men  lifted 
the  piece  of  furniture,  and  soon  deposited  it  safely  out- 
side the  door  of  Alice's  room.  The  excitement  had 
brought  a  flush  to  the  cheeks  of  the  invalid  ;  and,  as  the 
honest  Yankee  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  bright  counte- 
nance shaded  by  the  chestnut  curls,  he  started  back,  and 
wiped  his  eyes. 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  said  he,  bluntly,  "  if  you  keep 
angels  like  that,  no  wonder  she  has  things  corrie  to  her;" 
and,  turning  quickly,  he  followed  his  men,  saying  he 
was  paid  by  the  gentleman  who  delivered  the  article  to 
his  care. 

They  all  then  went  to  work  with  right  good  will  to 
cut  open  the  matting,  and  in  a  short  time  disclosed  to 
view  a  large  chair  for  an  invalid,  which  could  be  ex- 
tended at  pleasure  into  a  couch,  the  part  serving  for  a 
cricket  being  lowered  or  raised  at  pleasure.  In  addition, 
a  slight  mahogany  frame  had  been  added  for  a  broken 
arm,  showing  that  this  part,  at  least,  had  been  ordered 
expressly  for  her  benefit. 

No  one  was  more  delighted  than  Uncle  Stepnen,  who 
walked  around  and  around  it,  tipping  up  the  back  to  an 
erect  posture,  then  lowering  it  to  an  almost  horizontal 
position.  "  I  saw  one,"  he  said,  "  nearly  resembling,  it 
in  India.  It  belonged  to  a  British  officer." 


IN  niscuisE.  291 

Mr.  Stanley  smiled  as  he  remarked,  "  Then  it  is  to 
you  Alice  is  indebted  for  her  expensive  gift ;  but  1 
will  leave  her  to  express  her  thanks,  which  I  see  she  is 
longing  to  do." 

"  Me  !  thanks  to  me  !  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Stephen.  "  1 
assure  you  I  know  nothing  at  all  about  it.  I  had  no 
idea  one  could  be  procured  in  this  country ; "  and  he 
stepped  briskly  about  the  room,  as  if  he  were  delighted 
that  this  time  they  were  in  fault. 

"Who  can  it  be  ?"'  asked  Alice,  thoughtfully.  "1 
don't  know  anybody  else  who  would  be  so  extravagant, 
just  for  me ; "  but,  catching  a  glance  of  intelligence 
passing  between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stanley,  she  checked  her- 
self. A  sudden  suspicion  of  who  might  be  the  donor 
caused  her  to  grow  very  warm  about  the  heart. 

"  Whoever  sent  it  here,"  replied  Gertrude,  "  I  propose 
that  Alice  take  immediate  possession." 

"  Oh,  may  I  ?  "  cried  the  young  girl,  joyfully  ;  "  that 
would  be  delightful,  for  I  am  so  tired  of  this  one 
position !  " 

"  T  don't  know  that  we  ought  to  remove  you  without 
the  consent  of  your  doctor,"  replied  her  father ;  but  the 
entreaties  of  mother  and  sisters  prevailed,  and  the  pa- 
tient was,  withput  delay,  lifted  from  the  bed,  her  father 
carefully  steadying  her  broken  arm,  and  placing  it  in  the 
new  frame. 

"Admirably  contrived!  and  how  very  convenient!" 
were  echoed  and  reechoed,  as  Alice,  though  a  little  trern» 
ulous  from  the  exertion,  lay  back  smiling  in  her  new 
chair. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  so  love  this  seat ! "  sne  said,  enthusias-  • 


292  1HE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

tically,  "  and  I'm  very  grateful  to  whoever  planned  it  foi 
me.'' 

A  shout  of  mirth,  from  Emma,  caused  the  whole  party 
to  turn  quickly ;  and  there,  at  the  door,  making  his  way 
over  the  matting,  which  had  been  thrown  into  the  entry, 
stood  Clarence,  looking  on  with  a  most  complacent,  smile. 
He  bit  his  lip,  to  keep  from  laughing,  when  he  saw  he  had 
arrested  their  attention ;  but  came  forward,  as  they 
eagerly  called  him  to  see  Alice  sitting  up.  He  duly  ad- 
mired the  chair,  as  Uncle  Stephen  pointed  out  its  con- 
veniences ;  but  seemed  most  intent  upon  the  downcast 
eyes  of  the  occupant. 

After  her  first  glance  at  him,  the  patient  was  satisfied 
that  it  was  to  his  kindness  she  was  indebted  for  this 
pleasure ;  but  confused,  and  trembling  from  the  con- 
viction, she  could  not  utter  a  word. 

"  Who  could  have  sent  it  ?  "  inquired  Emma,  looking 
archly  at  Clarence,  —  "  Alice  is  so  anxious  to  know,  that 
she  may  express  her  thanks." 

"  It  is,  indeed,  very  mysterious,"  replied  the  attorney, 
averting  his  eyes,  and  appearing  to  be  wholly  occupied 
with  an  iron  screw,  which  confined  the  frame,  for  the 
arm,  to  the  main  body  of  the  chair. 

"  Oh,  Clarence !"  whispered  the  laughing  girl,  "  if  you 
ever  expect  to  keep  your  secrets,  you  must  cover  your 
mouth,  or  keep  down  the  corners.  They  are  looking 
very  suspicious." 

Now  Clarence's  mouth  had,  from  a  child,  been  a 
serious  annoyance  to  him ;  he  being  fully  aware  of  his 
infirmity;  and  now  he  .shook  his  head  at  the  mischievous 
girl  as  he  went  on  with  the  examination  of  the  screw. 


IN    DISGUISE.  29'J 

* 

"  Is  anything  the  matter  there  ?"  asked  Uncle  Stephen, 
impatiently  walking  around,  to  see  what  was  occupying 
the  attention  of  his  ward. 

14  No,  sir,''  was  the  reply  ;  "  I  wanted  to  see  if  it  was 
strong."  But  as  he  spoke,  he  drew  out  from  the  side  a 
thin  piece  of  mahogany,  which  was  to  be  used  as  a 
table  ;  and  now  every  one' declared  it  was  perfect. 

In  the  meantime,  Gertrude  was  bravely  struggling 
with  herself  to  keep  down  the  rising  emotions  of  envy 
and  jealousy,  caused  by  the  belief  that  Clarence  had 
thus  proved  his  deep  affection  for  her  sister.  Her  former 
anger  was  for  one  moment  aroused,  but  her  prayers  had 
not  been  in  vain  ;  and  soon  the  spirit  of  her  Saviour  de- 
scended upon  her,  calming  her  agitated  breast  to  peace ; 
and  when  the  family,  fearing  lest  the  invalid  should  be- 
come too  weary,  turned,  with  many  congratulations,  to 
leave  the  room,  none  were  more  sincerely  uttered  than 
Gertrude's. 

Leaving  Emma  with  her  sister,  she  retired  for  one 
moment  to  her  own  chamber,  where  she  uttered  a  devout 
thanksgiving  to  Him,  who  had  helped  her  to  conquer 
herself.  Then,  with  a  few  tears  of  regret,  as  she  thought 
of  the  noble  heart  she  had  lost,  she  bathed  her  eyes,  and 
returned  cheerfully  to  her  sister's  room. 

Brave  girl,  God  will  reward  thee ! 

About,  four  o'clock  the  Doctor's  old  horse  came  driving 
up  to  the  door,  and  soon  his  cheerful  voice  was  heard  on 
ihe  stairs..  He  had  never  appeared  in  a  more  jovial 
mood. 

"  Whew!  whew!  what  has  happened?  Great  liberty 
has  been  taken  \viih  rny  palieni.''  But  alter  he  had 

25* 


294  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

* 

carefully  examined  the  bandages,  to  see  that  no  narm  had 
been  done,  and  felt  her  pulse,  which  had  been  calmed  by 
a  refreshing  nap  in  her  new  chair,  the  sympathizing 
friend  was  loud  in  his  praises  of  the  contrivance. 

•'  Well,  pet,"  said  he,  tapping  her  cheek,  "  to  whom  arr. 
I  indebted  for  this  favor  to  my  patient  ?  I'll  make  my 
best  bow  to  him." 

A  tell-tale  blush  overspread  her  face,  as  she  faltered,  "  1 
don't  know,  sir."  But  Alice  was  truthful,  and  could  not 
even  thus  indirectly  say  that  which  was  false.  She  raised 
her  eyes,  met  those  of  Clarence  fixed  calmly  upon  her, 
and  with  the  words,  "  I  have  not  been  told,"  burst  into 
tears. 

"  Hey-day!  "  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  "growing  nervous!" 
and  he  shook  his  head  with  a  disappointed  air,  as  he 
again  placed  his  fingers  on  her  wrist,  and  found  there  had 
been  a  sudden  quickening  of  the  pulse  ;  "  1  must  give 
you  a  dose  of  your  favorite  syrup."  But  she  soon  suc- 
ceeded in  calming  herself,  though  she  took  good  care  to 
avoid  glancing  in  the  direction  of  Clarence. 

Mr.  Stanley  called  the  Doctor  for  a  walk  in  the  garden, 
and  half  an  hour  later,  when  they  returned,  she  had  so 
fully  recovered  her  spirits,  that  he  determined  upon  re- 
vealing to  her  the  secret  which  was  becoming  so  burden 
some  to  the  family :  "  Sit  down  here,"  he  called  out 
"  and  be  quiet;  I  want  to  tell  you  a  story  about  one  of 
my  patients ; "  and  the  good  man  made  a  great  effort  to 
appear  wholly  unmoved.  Mr.  Stanley  quietly  .drew  near, 
and  seated  himself  by  his  child,  while  the  others  disposed 
themselves  about  the  room  ;  Uncle  Stephen  cautiously 


IN    DISGUISE.  295 

placing  himself  behind  her  chair,  where  he  could  use  his 
handkerchief  freely  and  unobserved. 

Dr.  Jenks  was  not  a  man  to  stop  for  a  preface,  and  he 
commenced  :  "  Once,  upon  a  time,  there  were  two  little 

girls,  whose  names  were ,  well,  no  matter  what 

their  names  were;  but  they  were  foster-sisters,  just  as 
you,  Alice,  and  Edith  are.  They  lived  together  in  a 
beautiful  home,  and  the  parents  loved  the  little  fatherless 
child  just  as  well  as  the  other,  for  aught  I  ever  saw. 
For  some  reasons  which  were  satisfactory  to  his  own 
mind,  the  gentleman  who  was  the  father  of  one  of  them, 
determined  that  they  should  be  educated  together ;  and 
so  it  went  on,  the  little  things  growing  up  —  though 
never  were  two  children  more  unlike  in  words  or 
actions.  The  mother  died,  but  there  came  a  new  mother, 
who  did  her  duty  faithfully  to  both  of  them  ;  but  while 
she  did  this,  she  took  the  little  dependant  to  her  heart 
with  a  warmth  of  affection  which  grew  stronger  and 
stronger  every  year.  There  were  a  good  many  others, 
too,  who  loved  her ;  they  couldn't  help  it.  I  loved  her 
myself,"  —  and  the  good  old  man  made  a  great  effort  tc 
suppress  a  sob,  which  was  welling  up  from  his  sympa- 
thizing heart. 

"  Well,"  he  continued,  "  I  can't  say  so  much  for  the 
other  one  ;  I  never  knew  so  much  of  her ;  but  to  make 
a  long  story  short,  —  when  the  children  had  come  on 
pretty  well  in  their  teens,  it  so  happened  that  one  of 
them,  the  little  one,  was  thrown  from  a  horse,  and  u 
pretty  serious  matter  it  proved  to  be,  for  then  it  came 
out,  that  the  children  had  been  changed  when  they  were 
babies,  and  the  mother  of  the  haughty  girl,  who  had 


296  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGFI 

always  supposed  herself  to  be  a  child  of  the  family,  lei 
it  all  out.  She  had  been  rather  crazy  for  some  years, 
but  in  this  case  she  proved  herself  rational,  and  so  you 
see  —  " 

At  the  mention  of  the  insane  mother,  Alice  started 
forward,  and,  with  suspended  breath,  listened  for  what 
was  to  follow;  when,  noticing  her  excitement,  the  Doctor 
paused  —  she  sank  back,  and  gasped,  "  What!  — " 

He  was  rather  startled,  and  placed  his  fingers  on  her 
wrist,  saying:  "  I'm  sorry,  dear,  you  don't  like  my  story." 

The  poor  girl  cast  a  quick,  beseeching  glance  around 
the  room,  and  perceiving  the  eager  look  of  interest  with 
which  every  one  was  regarding  her,  whispered  with  her 
white  lips,  "  What  were  their  names  ?  " 

"  Can't  guess,  hey  ?  Well,  then,  if  I  must  tell  you,— 
one  was  Edith,  and  the"  — 

But  she  waited  for  no  more.  With  a  quick  motion 
she  clasped  her  father's  extended  hand,  and  pressed  it  to 
her  lips,  and  in  a  tone  which  went  to  every  heart,  ex- 
claimed :  "  Oh,  father !  my  own  father  !  " 

Mother  and  sisters  sprang  up  —  wept  and  rejoiced 
over  her.  Nor  were  Uncle  Stephen  or  Clarence  at  all 
behind  the  others  in  their  expression  of  joy  ;  though  the 
former  manifested  it  in  his  own  peculiar  way,  and  sob- 
bed to  his  heart's  content ;  while  the  good  Doctor,  in  hit 
delight,  gave  each  of  the  family  a  hearty  shake  of  the 
hand. 

Somehow,  in  the  confusion,  Alice  found  her  hand 
made  prisoner,  and,  on  looking  around,  she  saw  it  was 
by  her  Uncle's  ward,  who  seemed  to  be  trying  to  get  an 
opportunity  to  speak  to  her. 


fN    DISGUISE.  297 

But  Dr.  Jenks  thought,  his  patient  had  had  quite  enough 
of  excitement  for  one  day,  and  hurried  the  family  out  of 
the  room,  —  though  Alice  begged  them  to  stay.  When 
they  were  gone,  however,  she  felt  that  it  was  desirable 
that  she  should  be  quiet  for  a  time, —  such  a  torrent  of 
emotions  were  crowding  through  her  mind.  The  great 
happiness  in  store  for  her,  and  the  sorrow  she  felt  for 
poor  Edith,  about  whom,  as  yet,  she  had  heard  nothing, 
but  for  whom  she  feared  everything.  Oh  what  joy,  in 
the  thought  that  she  had  a  father !  one,  to  whom  she 
could  look  for  guidance  and  protection  !  Then,  a  feel- 
ing of  regret  that  Louis  had  not  lived,  to  know  what 
would  have  given  him  so  much  pleasure.  These  feel- 
ings were  quickly  followed  by  wonder  at  the  motives  of 
Mrs.  Carey  (no  longer  her  mother), to  such  a  crime;  and 
why,  after-  perpetrating  it,  and  keeping  it  a  secret  so 
many  years,  she  had  now  divulged  it.  But  beyond  all 
these  pleasurable  and  painful  emotions,  nay,  that  which 
modified  all  others,  was  the  delightful  conviction  that 
she  had  won  the  love  of  him,  whom  from  childhood  she 
had  regarded  as  the  model  of  a  Christian  gentleman 
Every  day  brought  fresh  conviction  of  the  depth  am1 
fervency  of  his  affection,  and  though  he  had  never  ut- 
tered it  in  words,  yet,  she  read  it  in  every^action,  and 
she  was  satisfied.  The  dix/iness  in  her  head,  which  had 
never  left  her  since  the  sad  night  when,  for  the  first  time 
in  her  life,  she  had  fainted,  warned  her  of  the  necessity 
of  composing  herself,  and  making  a  great  effort  to  turn 
her  thoughts  front  every  exciting  subject,  she  tried  Uncle 
Stephen's  remedy,  and  repeated  hymn  after  hymn,  that 
she  had  learned  in  childhood. 


298  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

For  an  hour  she  lay  so  quietly  that  Gertrude,  \vlio  alone 
remained  with  her,  thought  she  was  sleeping ;  but  at 
length  she  opened  her  eyes,  and  when  she  perceived  who 
was  with  her,  exclaimed,  with  a  bright  smile  :  "  Oh,  my 
sister !  I  would  willingly  suffer  all  I  have  lost  in  these 
long  years,  for  the  joy  of  the  past  hour.  I  can  see  that, 
for  me,  there  was  a  wise  Providence  in  placing  me  just 
where  I  was,  that  I  might  be  kept  from  temptations  to 
pride  and  arrogance ;  but  you  can  never  realize  the  de- 
light which  thrills  through  my  whole  being  as  I  repeat 
to  myself,  again  and  again,  the  endearing  names,  father, 
mother,  sisters,  and  brother" 

"  Brother!"  repeated  Gertrude,  earnestly,  while  a  sud- 
den ray  of  hope  flashed  from  her  eye,  as  she  thought  her 
sister  referred  to  Clarence. 

Alice  instinctively  understood  her,  and  faltered, — 
"  Yes,  he  is  still  my  brother,  though  his  body*  has  for 
many  years  been  resting  in  the  grave.  Dear,  dear  Louis, 
how  delighted  you  would  have  been  ! " 

On  the  following  Sabbath,  the  family  assembled  for 
prayer  in  the  room  of  the  invalid ;  and  to  her  it  proved  a 
delightful  season. 

The  sad  fate  of  Edith  had  affected  her  deeply,  tuough 
the  tidings  of  the  poor  girl's  departure  had  been  commu- 
nicated to*her  by  her  father,  in  the  most  cautious  manner. 
With  Mrs.  Carey,  too,  Alice  had  wept,  whi  e  she  granted 
her  full  forgiveness  for  the  past. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

"  A  pure  heart, 

That  burns  to  ashes,  yet  conceals  its  pain, 
For  fear  it  mar  its  hopeless  source  of  love, 
Is  not  to  be  despised,  or  lightly  held." — Baker 

THE  weather  was  now  delightful  ;  and  Alice,  who 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  daily  out-door  exercise,  pant- 
ed for  the  fresh  air.  She  began  to  long  for  her  ml'-.-, 
and  was  earnest  to  resume  her  visits  to  her  proteges. 
Long  before  this,  she  had  learned  from  Dr.  Jenks,  that 
the  young  girl  he  mentioned  to  her,  as  a  suitable  ob- 
ject for  her  charity,  had  been  removed  to  his  own  house, 
and  Emma  had  visited  her  there. 

One  morning,  the  weary  girl  sat  listening  to  the  song 
of  her  Canary,  when  she  suddenly  started  forward,  ex- 
claiming, "  Oh,  I  feel  as  if  I  should  fly  !  I  must  do 
something,  —  I'm  so  tired  of  sitting  here." 

Emma,  who  was  seated  near  the  window  with  her 
sewing,  said,  archly,  "  I'll  see  if  Clarence  is  in.  I  notice 
that  his  presence  has  a  very  soothing  effect  upon  your 
nerves ;  or  will  you  have  another  of  your  fragrant  nssa- 
fcetida  pills?" 

The  face  of  Alice  expressed,  for  a  moment,  the  most 
perfect  disgust  at  the  last-named  remedy.  T<  tho 
former,  she  would  deign  no  reply. 

"  I  wont  have  my  patient  annoyed,"  remarked  Ger 
trade,  pleasantly. 

269 


300  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

A  sudden  thought  seemed  to  dart  through  Emma's 
fertile  brain.  She  sprang  up,  and,  throwing  her  arms 
around  her  mother's  neck,  whispered  something  in  her 
ear.  Mrs.  Stanley  smilingly  nodded,  and  the  laughing  girl 
ran  from  the  room. 

"  Oh,  mamma  !  "  exclaimed  Alice,  in  distress,  "  she 
wouldn't,"  —  she  faltered, —  "  she  wouldn't  do  what  she 
said ! " 

"  No,  my  dear,  she  is  the  last  one  to  compromise  your 
delicacy.  She  has  forgotten  the  remark  before  now." 

The  ladies  returned  to  their  sewing,  and  Alice  read 
aloud  to  them. 

It  was  rather  more  than  an  hour  after  Emma  had  so 
unceremoniously  taken  leave,  when  they  heard  a  carriage 
drive  into  the  yard.  Suppressed  voices  were  soon  heard 
in  the  hall.  Alice  leaned  forward,  as  far  as  her  arm 
would  allow,  to  listen,  when  the  runaway,  with  a  bright 
face,  ushered  Mrs.  Hayden,  Minnie,  and  Nurse  Green, 
into  the  room. 

"  That  was  a  happy  thought  of  yours,"  remarked  Ger- 
trude, after  they  were  all  seated.  "  Alice  looks  ten  per 
cent,  better,  already." 

And,  in  truth,  the  visitors  appeared  to  enjoy  it  as  much 
as  she  did.  Mrs.  Hayden  had  suffered  from  anxiety  for 
her  kind  benefactress,  and  was  relieved  by  seeing  how 
fast  she  had  gained,  while  the  garrulous  nurse  was  so  full 
of  her  good  wishes  and  congratulations,  that  all  were 
cheered  by  them. 

"  I  heard  the  whole,"  she  resumed,  "  from  that  ere 
young  Mr.  Sydney  ;  and  a  likelier  man  I'd  never  ask  to 
Bee,  even  to  match  you,  Mi^  Alice." 


IN    DISGUISE.  301 

The  young  girl  blushed  painfully,  as  she  interrupted 
her,  "  You  are  mistaken,  Nurse  ;  there  is  nothing  of  that 
kind  between  us." 

But,  with  a  knowing  wink  at  Mrs.  Stanley,  she  went 
on,  "  You  can't  blind  me  ;  I'm  used  to  such  things,  going 
round,  as  I  do,  in  families ;  and  young  men,  and  girls, 
too,  very  often  makes  me  a  confidant  like,  and  asks  my 
advice,  seeing  I've  had  a  good  deal  of  experience.  Now, 
it's  my  opinion,  that  much  as  Mr.  Sydney  thinks  of  Min- 
nie, there,  he  wouldn't  be  coming  day  after  day  to  the 
house  to  see  her,  if  'twant  for  the  pleasure  of  hearing  me 
talk  about  you." 

"  Oh,"  said  Alice,  "  he  never  told  me  he'd  been.  I  hope 
you  wont  say  anything." 

"  Never  fear  me,"  replied  the  old  lady  ;  "  I  sha'n't  say 
any  hurt  of  you  ;  you  may  depend  on  that." 

"  But,  indeed,  Nurse,  I  had  rather  you  wouldn't  even 
mention  my  name  ;  "  and  Alice  looked  really  annoyed. 

"  Bless  your  heart,  dear !  only  think  what  a  comfort 
you'd  deprive  me  of,  as  well  as  the  young  man.  Why, 
you're  the  very  light  of  his  eyes.  I  have  laughed  many 
a  time  to  see  him  stand  whirling  his  hat,  after  he'd  said 
he  must  go,  for  sartain,  while  I'd  tell  all  you  did  and 
said  when  you  were  here." 

Alice  laughed,  in  spite  of  herself,  at  the  comic,  know- 
ing winks,  of  the  good  nurse ;  but  immediately  sought 
to  direct  the  attention  to  Minnie.  After  the  child's  first 
delight  at  seeing  her  friend,  Emma  had  taken  her  for  a 
call  upon  Uncle  Stephen,  and  just  now  returned  wit.h 
him  into  the  room. 

Ills  presence  would  have  been  sufficient  to  enforce 
26 


302  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

silence,  as  far  as  Nurse  Green  was  concerned.  She  made 
him  a  most  formal  courtesy,  in  reply  to  the  introduction, 
and,  looking  over  her  glasses,  her  eyes  followed  him 
about  the  room  with  a  curious  mixture  of  fear  and  ven- 
eration. 

He  sat  down  by  Mrs.  Hayden,  and  talked  very  kindly 
with  her  about  her  son,  when  Emma  told  him  they  had 
left  word  with  a  neighbor  that  he  was  to  come  to  dinner 
at  the  hall. 

On  the  whole,  it  was  a  most  delightful  day  to  Alice, 
as  well  as  to  her  visitors,  though  she  trembled  not  a  lit- 
tle, when,  in  the  afternoon,  Clarence  joined  them,  and 
Nurse  Green  showed  herself  eager  to  convince  the  com- 
pany on  what  good  terms  she  was  with  the  young  attor- 
ney. When  he  brought  in  a  beautiful  bouquet  from  the 
garden,  and  sent  it  to  Alice  by  Minnie,  Nurse's  eyes  said 
as  plainly  as  words  could  speak,  "  I  told  you  so  ;  let  me 
alone  for  guessing  such  things  out."  And  Clarence  cer- 
tainly didn't  make  much  secret  of  his  attachment. 

When  Emma  had  gone  to  accompany  them  home, 
only  one  thing  had  occurred  which  gave  Alice  uneasi- 
ness, and  that  "was  a  tear  which  had  dropped  from  Ger- 
trude's eyes  upon  her  hand.  It  was  when  Clarence  was 
present,  just  after  he  had  sent  her  the  flowers,  and  was 
standing  in  a  most  hard-hearted  manner,  feasting  his  eyea 
upon  the  rosy  hue  which  mantled  her  cheeks.  Gertrude 
had  suddenly  approached,  as  if  to  put  back  a  curl  which 
hung  over  and  shaded  her  face ;  but,  as  Alice  feared,  ir- 
reality to  hide  her  own  emotion,  by  turning  her  back 
to  those  present. 

That  pearly  drop  haunted  the  poor  girl,  and  it  needed 


IN     DI.-GUISK. 


all  the  cheering  influence  of  a  letter  Emrna  brought  from 
the  office,  from  Edith,  to  dissipate  the  sadness  it  caused 
her.  The  letter  from  Edith  was  a  great  comfort  to  her 
kind  friends,  who  had  been  impatiently  awaiting  some 
intelligence  from  her.  She  was  at  T  -  ,  with  her  old 
teacher,  and  had  already  taken  charge  of  the  youngest 
class  of  girls.  The  letter  was  very  brief,  but  contained 
none  of  that  bitterness  which  had  so  much  pained  her  in 
her  former  one. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Stanley  sent  her  a  large  trunk  con- 
taining her  clothes,  together  with  a  generous  sum  of 
money  for  her  present  need.  He  also  wrote  to  Mrs.  M., 
the  principal,  to  whose  especial  care  and  attention  he 
committed  her. 

It  was  now  five  weeks  since  Alice  had  broken  her  arm, 
and  she  was  able  to  be  down  stairs.  The  most  trying 
part  of  her  confinement  was  now  to  come,  and  that  was 
in  the  daily  exercise  she  was  required  to  give  the  con- 
tracted muscles.  She  was  nervous,  too,  and  easily  moved 
to  tears,  and  looked  forward  with  dread,  from  one  day  to 
another,  of  the  excruciating  pain,  which  any  one  who 
has  broken  a  limb  can  well  comprehend.  She  was  not 
the  only  one  who  suffered,  for  there  was  not  a  niembei 
of  the  household,  but  would  willingly  have  endured  it 
for  her.  But  Dr.  Jenks  was  inexorable,  and  told  her  she 
would  thank  him  for  it  bye  and  bye,  and  so  would  they 
all,  though  they  now  made  such  wry  faces  at  him. 

It  was  to  the  influence  of  this  suffering  that  her  friends 
ascribed  the  unusual  depression  of  spirits  which  had 
corne  over  their  beloved  Alice  ;  but  they  were  mistaken. 
She  had  an  inward  struggle,  of  which  they  knew  nothing. 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

But  the  truth  was  this,  her  affection  Tor  Clarence  had 
quickened  her  perceptions  with  regard  to  the  feelings 
which  Gertrude  entertained  for  him.  During  her  sick- 
ness she  had  had  frequent  opportunities  of  watching  the 
conflict  the  brave  girl  was  carrying  on  with  herself,  and 
her  own  experience  taught  her  how  severe  it  must  be. 
At  the  same  time,  her  love  and  respect  for  her  sister  had 
greatly  increased.  Through  the  day  she  firmly  put  away 
all  forebodings  of  coming  ill,  avoiding  the  subjects  con- 
stantly recurring  to  her  mind  as  a  duty  she  owed  herself, 
in  respect  to  the  recovery  of  her  health.  But  her  nights 
had  again  become  wakeful,  while  doubts  whether  she 
had  a  right  to  be  happy  in  the  love  of  Clarence  at  the 
expense  of  her  sister's  sufferings,  and  fears  of  alienation 
from  the  affections  of  that  sister,  by  turns  occupied  her 
mind.  Her  intercourse  with  the  young  man,  from  his 
first  coming  among  them,  was  carefully  reviewed,  and 
she  was  obliged  to  acknowledge  that  he  had  given  Ger- 
trude reason  to  suppose  he  loved  her.  Certainly  his  con- 
duct and  attentions  had  been  such  as  to  call  out  her 
affection  for  him.  Not  knowing  all  that  had  passed  be- 
tween them,  or  the  disdainful  manner  in  which  Gertrude 
had  formerly  at  times  treated  him,  and  by  which  she  had 
forfeited  his  respect,  Alice  began  to  doubt  whether  his 
course  had  been  perfectly  honorable,  and  whether  she 
should  be  justified  in  accepting  his  suit.  She  could  not 
be  unconscious  that  he  loved  her,  and  that  ever  since  she 
left  her  room,  he  had  sought  an  opportunity  to  tell  her  so ; 
but,  while  she  was  so  undecided,  she  avoided  being  alone 
with  him.  Sometimes  she  thought  she  would  unburden 
her  heart  to  her  mother ;  but  then  she  remembered  that 


IN    DISCriSE. 


she  had  no  right  to  divulge  that  with  regard  to  her  sistei 
which  she  was  making  such  an  effort  to  keep  locked  in 
her  own  breast. 

So  it  went  on,  day  after  day,  Alice  growing  more  and 
more  excitable  and  nervous.  Gertrude  was  her  unwearied 
nurse  and  comforter.  Poor  Gertrude  !  when  Alice  ap- 
peared happy  in  the  affections  of.  Clarence,  how  many 
times  in  a  day  had  she  been  obliged  to  retire  to  her 
closet,  and,  with  strong  crying  and  tears,  beseech  her 
heavenly  Father  for  comfort  and  support  in  this  her  hour 
of  trial  ;  but  now  in  her  sorrow,  though  little  understand- 
ing the  cause,  nothing  could  exceed  the  tenderness  she 
manifested  toward  her  gentle  patient;  and  Alice  clung 
to  her  as  if  her  only  comfort  were  in  her  presence. 

One  night  Gertrude,  who  now  occupied  the  same  bed 
with  Alice,  was  awakened  by  hearing  her  sob  aloud. 

She  kept  quiet  a  moment,  hoping  it  was  only  her  im- 
agination, when  the  poor  girl  whispered,  "  Oh,  what  can 
1,  what  must  I,  do  ?  "  and  she  sobbed  louder  than  before. 

With  her  arms  encircling  her  sister,  Gertrude  begged 
her  to  confide  her  sorrows  to  her  ear  ;  and  Alice,  entirely 
overcome  by  her  own  grief,  told  her  all  her  heart.  It  was 
fortunate  that  she  could  not  see  the  tears  which  fell  thickly 
from  Gertrude's  eyes,  and  that  the  heroic  girl  so  disinter- 
estedly stifled  her  sobs,  lest  they  should  add  to  her  dis- 
tress. But  in  that  midnight  hour  the  hearts  of  these  >is- 
ters  were  laid  bare  to  one  another  ;  and  such  a  relief  did 
it  prove  to  one,  at  least,  that  she  fell  into  a  more  tranquil 
and  refreshing  sleep  than  she  had  enjoyed  (br  a  long 
time. 

26* 


30(5  THE    HOUSEHOLD     iNGEL 

When  the  morning  dawned,  Gertrude  sile.itly  arose 
from  her  bed,  and,  after  making  a  hasty  toilet,  retired  to 
her  small  closet  for  prayer  and  praise. 

Yes,  for  thanksgiving ;  for,  though  ashy  pale,  yet  there 
was  a  holy  light  beaming  from  her  eye,  and  her  counte- 
nance bore  the  impress  of  high  and  noble  purposes.  Ow- 
ing that  long,  never-to-be-forgotten  night,  she  had  care- 
fully examined  her  own  heart,  and  questioned  her  own 
strength  to  carry  out  the  purposes  she  formed  while  lis- 
tening to  the  artless  tale  of  her  sister's  sufferings.  Severe 
had  been  the  struggle ;  but  so  much  the  greater  was  the 
victory.  Divine  grace  had  developed  new  principles 
within  her,  which  she  herself  had  been  unconscious  of 
possessing;  and  through  the  discipline  which  her  heav- 
enly Father  in  wisdom  had  sent,  her  Christian  character 
had  matured  in  an  uncommon  degree. 

Softly  leaving  her  chamber,  to  avoid  awaking  the 
sleeper,  Gertrude  sought  the  parlor,  intending  to  detain 
Clarence  when  he  came  down  for  his  morning  walk. 
But,  to  her  surprise,  the  parlor  was  occupied  by  Uncle 
Stephen,  who  certainly  seemed  to  have  got  out  of  bed 
wrong,  so  vigorously  did  he  kick  about  the  crickets,  as  Vu1 
promenaded  the  spacious  room.  Gertrude  stood  quietly  at 
the  door  for  a  moment,  wondering  what  could  have  hap- 
pened to  disturb  his  feelings  to  such  a  degree,  when  he 
grumbled,  "  It's  always  so.  Nothing  ever  goes  right  in 
this  house.  The  whole  family  are  bent  on  crossing  my 
wishes." 

Gertrude  could  hardly  suppress  a  smile  as  she  listened, 
which,  however,  she  was  careful  to  conceal  from  him,  as 
a  dangerous  exhibition  of  levity  under  existing  circum- 


IN    LISGUISK  307 

stances.  At  length  she  said,  ;'  What  is  tht>  t^oub't  now, 
Uncle  Stephen  ?  " 

"  Trouble  enough,"  he  burst  out,  almost  angrily,  ''when 
the  ones  I've  loved  more  than  all  others,  and  wan^ec*  te 
make  happy,  go  to  cutting  up  such  Didos,  and  wont 
take  a  word  of  advice  from  one  who's  forgotten  more 
than  they'll  ever  know." 

"  But  who  has  refused  your  advice  ?  " 

"  Every  body  that  I've  offered  it  to.  I  don't  go 
round  imposing  my  advice  upon  every  one  ;  but,  when  I 
do  condescend  to  offer  it,  I  expect  to  have  it  taken  ; " 
and  a  determined  push  of  Alice's  great  chair,  which  had 
been  brought  to  the  parlor,  showed  that  he  meant  what 
he  said. 

Gertrude,  seeing  it  was  in  vain  to  ask  for  an  explana- 
tion, was  turning  to  leave  the  room,  when  the  excited 
man,  unwilling  to  lose  the  only  one  upon  whom  he 
could  vent  his  anger,  said,  "  Did  you  know  Clarence  was 
going  to  leave  Lindenwood  in  a  few  hours  ?  " 

"  No,"  exclaimed  Gertrude,  with  a  sudden  blanching 
of  her  face  and  lips,  which  was  not  unobserved  by  the 
other. 

"  Well,  you  know  it  now.  He  is  on  his  knees  at  his 
trunks,  packing  as  if  his  life  depended  on  his  speed." 

"  What  is  he  going  to  leave  for  ?  "  faltered  the  poor 
girl. 

"  For  stuff  and  nonsense,  I  say.  Because  he  can't 
endure  hie  unhappiness  any  longer,  he  says.  So  there 
you  have  it,  and  you  may  make  the  most  of  it,  you  can. 
I  wont  be  a  fool,  and  keep  his  secrei,  if  he  is  such  ;>  fool 
as  to  have  one;"  and  Uncle  Stephen  sat  down  with 


308  THE    HOUSLHOLD    ANGEL 

great  vehemence,  as  if  he  were  meditating  a  heady  fit 
of  crying. 

But  Gertrude's  resolution  was  taken  in  a  moment 
"  Uncle  Stephen,"  said  she,  in  a  firm,  full  voice,  in  which 
every  trace  of  irresolution  had  gone,  "  Clarence  mustn't 
go.  He  must  be  stopped," 

u  How  are  you  going  to  do  it,  though  ?  "  he  asked, 
eagerly,  gazing  earnestly  at  the  young  girl.  "  I've  tried 
all  my  power  over  him." 

"  Well,"  she.  replied,  after  thinking  a  moment,  "  if  you 
fdll  go  up  and  ask  Clarence  to  come  to  me,  I  think  I 
can  convince  him  that  it  would  be  contrary  to  his  own 
interest  and  pleasure  to  leave  ;  and  that  you  will  find  it 
hard  to  induce  him  to  do  so,  after  what  I  shall  tell  him, 
I  have  no  doubt,"  she  added,  with  a  sad  smile. 

Uncle  Stephen  sprang  from  his  chair,  looked  her  full 
in  the  face  for  one  instant,  then,  without  speaking,  rap- 
idly ascended  the  stairs ;  and  before  the  poor  girl  could 
at  all  collect  her  thoughts,  and  arrange  what  she  intended 
to  say,  Clarence  stood  before  her. 

"  Uncle  Stephen  says  you  wish  to  see  me  at  once 
upon  important  business,"  said  he,  respectfully  taking 
her  hand,  struck  with  the  expression  of  intense  suffering 
upon  her  countenance. 

She.  gently  withdrew  her  hand,  and  pointed  to  the 
sofa,  where  he  seated  himself  near  her. 

An  hour  later,  Alice,  pale  and  languid,  but  with  a 
lighter  heart  than  for  many  weeks,  descended  the  stairs. 
She  had  in  vain  waited  for  her  unwearied  attendant  to 
assist  her  in  dressing,  which  she  was  as  yet  unable  to  do 
alone,  and  at  last  had  called  upon  Emma.  W  mdering 


IN    DISGUISE. 

what  could  have  induced  Gertrude  to  leave  her  bed  at 
so  early  an  hour,  she  walked  slowly  through  the  hall, 
and  opened  the  parlor  door.  The  sight  within  took 
away  her  power  of  motion.  Clarence  and  Gertrude 
had  started  to  go  to  breakfast,  and  were  standing  near 
the  entrance.  At  the  moment  she  saw  them,  he  had 
raised  the  hand  of  his  companion  to  his  lips,  and  said, 
ill  an  impassioned  voice,  "  Dearest  Gertrude,  you  have 
rendered  me  the  happiest  of  mortals." 

With  a  faint  sickness  at  her  heart,  Alice  turned  slowly 
away,  and  tried  to  retrace  her  steps  to  her  chamber,  but 
was  obliged  to  lean  against  the  wall  for  support,  Clar- 
ence started  forward  to  save  her  from  falling ;  but  she 
waved  him  off,  until  Gertrude  whispered  something  in 
her  ear,  and  assisted  her  to  the  sofa.  When  she  looked 
around,  her  sister  had  slipped  from  the  room.  In  a  low 
voice,  Gertrude  begged  her  mother,  who  was  standing 
at  the  urn,  to  delay  breakfast  for  a  few' moments,  then 
ran  to  her  room,  where  h^r  overwrought  feelings  found 
relief  in  a  burst  of  tears.  "  It  is  done,"  she  said,  aloud ; 
"  humiliating  as  it  was,  it  is  done ;  and  he  does  not 
despise  me.  He  said  I  had  ensured  his  eternal  respect 
as  well  as  gratitude.  Now  I  must  keep  my  heart  with 
double  diligence." 

When,  in  half  an  hour,  she  descended  to  breakfast,  in 
answer  to  the  long-delayed  summons,  the  whole  family 
were  surprised  to  see  Uncle  Stephen  approach  Gertrude, 
and  give  her  a  warm  kiss  as  a  token  of  his  unqualified 
approbation  of  her  conduct;  snd  the>  Astonishment  W:M 
not  decreased  to  sec  that  she  J/UL  her  aiirs  about  tbr  -ikl 
man's  neck,  and  as  cordially  rtMi.-Mt-l  hi.<  embrace. 


310  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"When  Clarence,  in  answer  to  Gertrude's  summons 
went  below,  the  impetuous  man  paced  back  and  forth 
through  his  suite  of  rooms,  waiting  for  him  to  return  to 
his  packing,  until  he  concluded  to  wait  no  longer.  He 
therefore  descended  to  the  parlor,  where  he  learned  from 
Clarence  tnat  Gertrude  had  explained  everything  to  his 
satisfaction,  and  had  taken  from  him  all  desire  to  leave 
Lindenwood. 

Though  contrary  to  the  good  order  of  the  family,  Mrs. 
Stanley  made  no  objection  to  Clarence's  proposal  to 
take  the  small  waiter  containing  Alice's  breakfast  from 
the  servant,  and  carry  it  to  her  himself,  as  she  still  lay 
upon  the  sofa  in  the  parlor. 

"  You  would  do  well  to  add  a  slice  of  toast  and  a  cup 
of  coffee  for  yourself,  Clarence,"  said  Emma,  laughing 
mischievously,  "  since  you  have  put  a  spoonful  of  sugar 
in  your  egg  cup,  and  salt  in  your  coffee  I  don't  wonder 
it  doesn't  relish  as  well  as  usual." 

The  successful  suitor  was  too  happy  to  take  offence, 
and  all  joined  in  a  laugh  at  his  expense,  during  which 
he  retreated  quickly  from  the  room.  No  one  seemed  in 
better  spirits  than  Uncle  Stephen,  who,  in  a  whisper, 
begged  Gertrude  to  forgive  him  for  treating  her  so  rudely' 
when  she  met  him  in  the  parlor,  then  added  that  he  had 
fallen  in  love  with  her  himself. 

No  one  could  better  appreciate  the  noble  conduct  of 
Gertrude  than  the  good  old  man  ;  and,  when  he  had 
heard  from  his  ward  all  that  she  had  do.  le,  he  took  no 
pains  to  conceal  the  affection  and  respect  her  conduct 
had  excited. 

Mr.  Stanley  was  not  very  much  surprised,  when,  early 


IN    DISGUISE.  311 

in  the  forenoon,  Clarence  knocked  at  his  study  door,  anc? 
formally  besought  the  hand  of  his  daughter.  He,  how- 
ever, gave  his  cordial  consent,  if  he  could  win  the  love 
of  the  young  girl. 

"  I  shall  do  my  best  to  follow  up  the  advantage  I  have 
gained  in  her  affections,"  replied  Clarence,  bowing  over 
Mr.  Stanley's  hand,  to  conceal  the  flush  of  pleasure 
which  lighted  up  his  features ;  "  and  I  hope  you  and  her 
mother  will  not  refuse  my  wishes  for  a  speedy  union." 

"  I  can  assure  you,"  replied  Mr.  Stanley,  "  it  will  cost 
me  something  of  a  struggle  to  give  up  so  soon  the  dear 
child  so  lately  restored  to  me ;  but,  as  you  have  done  far 
more  toward  forming  her  character  than  I  have,  I  sup- 
pose I  must  in  this  instance  yield  my  wishes  to  yours. 
But  there  will  be  time  enough  hereafter  to  settle  all  those 
matters." 

It  is  wonderful  what  a  powerful  restorative  is  a  heart 
at  rest.  Alice  gained  daily,  and  Dr.  Jenks  was  loud  in 
his  praises  of  her  fortitude,  when  he  performed  the  pain- 
ful operation  of  moving  her  arm.  He  even  declared 
that  Clarence,  who  sat  by  her  side,  would  do  well  to 
take  a  lesson  from  her,  as  his  groans  were  far  louder 
than  hers. 

Clarence  frankly  replied  that,  if  the  operation  were 
upon  his  own  arm,  they  might  listen  in  vain  for  groan- 
ing ;  but,  when  it  was  one  he  loved  dearer  than  himself 
who  was  the  sufferer,  he  might  well  be  excused. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  laughed  (he  merry  doctor;  "that's 
the  way  the  wind  blows,"  tapping  the  cheek  of  Alice, 
whose  color  rivalled  in  hue  the  richest  rose.  "  Well,  I 
can't  say  but  I've  had  my  suspicions.  Tears  all  gone 


312  THK     HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

now?  ley,  Alice  ?  Well,"  he  continued,  "  I've  had  in) 
turn,  and  young  folks  must  have  theirs.  Wife  and  I  are 
spectators  to  a  pretty  serious  love  scene  at  home,  and  1 
half  blame  myself  for  it  too." 

"  Do  tell  us  about  it !  "  interrupted  Emma. 

"  Well,"  he  added,  "  it  is  no  secret,  I  suppose.  Man- 
rice  has  fallen  in  love  with  the  young  girl  I  carried  home 
for  wife  to  nurse.  YoTi  saw  her,  Emma.  She  didn't 
need  medicine;  she  only  wanted  nursing;  and  how 
could  I  be  expected  to  know  that  Maurice  would  take 
such  a  liking  to  her  ?  However,  he's  really  in  love  this 
time,  and  no  shamming  either ;  and  in  this  case  he's 
acted  well  about  it.  I  saw  something  had  come  over 
the  boy;  for,  instead  of  being  out  lounging  round  in 
search  of  nrschief,  as  he's  been  too  apt  to  do  of  late 
years,  he'd  sit  quietly  in  the  house,  and  hold  yarn  for 
Arny  to  wind,  or  read  aloud  to  her  and  his  mother.  I 
guess  wife  hadn't  heard  so  much  reading  for  many  a 
day.  Then  he  was  always  ready  to  do  a  chore  for  his 
mother,  till  she  got  alarmed  about  him,  and  told  me 
privately,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  that  she  was  afraid  he 
wouldn't  live  long,  he'd  grown  to  be  so  dutiful,  —  she'd 
read  of  such  cases,  —  or  else  he'd  become  a  Christian. 
The  latter  would  indeed  rejoice  our  hearts.  All  1his 
while,  he'd  been  so  respectful  in  his  manner  of  treating 
Amy,  that  I  never  thought  he  was  taking  that  way  to 
make  love  to  her;  and  one  day  I  talked  with  him,  and 
asked  him  if  he  didn't  feel  well,  and  the  poor  fellow 
confessed  the  whole.  He'd  loved  Amy  ever  since  she 
came  to  the  house;  but  he  never  thought  of  asking  her 
to  marry  him ;  he  said  he  knew  he  wasn't  worthy  the 


IN    DISGUISE. 


love  of  a  pure,  virtuous  girl.  And  the;  long  and  short  ot 
it  is,"  continued  he*  wiping  his  eyes,  "  that  I  hadn't  the 
heart  to  refuse  ray  consent,  for  1  thought  'twas  a  good 
sign,  his  choosing  such  a  one  ;  and  so  I  told  him  there 
vva'nt  a  girl,  high  nor  low>  I'd  rather  he'd  marry,  only 
he'd  got  to  earn  a  good  character  first,  for  it  never  should 
be  said  of  me  that  I'd  encourage  my  son  to  ruin  the 
happiness  of  a  girl  I'd  taken  upon  me  to  protect. 
There!  "  said  he,  "  I  forgot  you  were  not  as  much  inter- 
ested in  my  story  as  I  am." 

But  his  hearers  would  not  consent  to  be  deprived  of  . 
the  end  of  the  story.    "  I  want  to  hear  how  it  came  out," 
exclaimed  Emma,  with  an  arch  smile. 

"  I  must  say,"  continued  lie,  "  that  so  far  she's  had 
great  influence  over  Maurice,  and  I  hope  much  from  it, 
though  'twas  the  farthest  thing  from  my  mind  when  1 
carried  the  poor  friendless  thing  home.  But  she's  a 
good  Christian  girl  ;  and  her  being  Scotch  is  no  objection 
to  me,  while  to  wife  it  makes  all  the  difference  in  the 
world,  as  she's  descended  from  the  Scotch,  and  she  takes 
to  the  young  stranger  wonderfully  on  tjiat  account. 
I've  suspected  for  a  day  or  two  that  he's  told  her  some- 
thing of  his  feelings;  there  seems  to  be  a  good  under- 
standing between  them  ;  and,  if  he  has,  he's  told  her  all. 
Maurice  an't  a  boy,  wild  as  he  has  been,  to  conceal  his 
pranks  from  a  girl  he  intends  to  make  his  wife.  By  the 
way,  Alice,  he  is  very  much  ashamed  of  the  familiar 
manner  in  which  he  treated  you  the  afternoon  he  met 
you  in  the  street." 

The  confusion  of  the   poor  girl,  as  she  thought  of  all 
the  suffering  he   had  caused   her,  was  misunderstood  by 
•21 


314  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

her  friend,  and  he  rose  with  much  ejjiotion,  as  he  said, 
"  Tell  me,  child,  did  he  offer  you  any  insult  ?  I  under- 
stood him  he  was  only  foolishly  complimenting  you,  and 
that  he  persisted  in  it  even  when  he  knew  it  was  annoy- 
ing. I  thought  I  could  depend  upon  his  word,"  and  the 
father's  voice  assumed  a  tone  of  deep  sadness,  as  he 
feared  his  son  had  deceived  him. 

Alice  eagerly  assured  him  that  Maurice  had  repre- 
sented the  meeting  correctly,  and  that  no  one  rejoiced  in 
his  good  conduct  more  than  she  did.  "  He  was  so  kind 
.to  my  dear  little  brother,"  she  added, "  that  I  shall  always 
feel  an  interest  for  him." 

Clarence  cast  down  his  eyes  as  she  frankly  expressed 
the  cause  of  her  interest,  and  was  glad  Gertrude  was  not 
in  the  room  to  be  humiliated  by  the  avowal,  now  that  she 
BO  sincerely  repented  her  intention  to  misrepresent  it. 

The  shade  passed  from  the  brow  of  the  good  father, 
and  saying,  "  My  patients  will  think  something  has  car- 
tied  me  off,  and  they'll  all  send  for  Dr.  Mason,  if  I  don't 
hurry,"  he  took  a  hasty  leave. 


CHAPTER     XXVI. 

"  Ah  me ! 

The  world  is  full  of  meetings  such  as  this  — 
A  thrill,  a  voiceless  challenge  and  reply  — 
And  sudden  partings  after !  "  —  Willis. 

IT  is  qu..te  time  to  introduce  the  reader  to  Amy  Camp- 
bell, who  had  now  become  so  interesting  a  member  of 
Dr.  Jenks's  family.  The  good  doctor  was  one  day  sum- 
moned, in  great  haste,  to  a  patient,  and  was  riding  in 
full  speed,  when  a  woman  came  to  the  door  of  a  small 
house,  and  beckoned  him  to  stop.  Learning  there  was 
nothing  which  required  immediate  attention,  he  promised 
to  call  upon  his  return.  This  he  did,  and  found  a  young 
girl  lying  upon  the  bed.  When  he  entered,  she  \vas 
asleep,  and,  though  pale  and  emaciated,  much  impressed 
him  with  her  appearance.  Suddenly  she  started,  and  in 
impassioned  tones  poured  forth  a  long  string  of  "  lingo," 
as  the  doctor  called  it,  during  which  he  stood  by,  fearing 
she'd  get  her  tongue  so  tightly  twisted  'twould  never  be 
unloosed. 

The  good  woman  who  had  taken  compassion  upon 
her,  said  she  talked  a  great  deal  in  her  sleep,  and  always 
in  her  native  tongue,  which  was  Scotch.  She  soon 
awoke,  was  introduced  to  the  doctor,  and  gave  him  her 
simple  history.  She  was  born  and  brought  up  in  the 
north  of  Scotland.  Tier  father  died  six  months  before, 

.315 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

when  her  uncle  came  forward  and  took  possession  of  the 
estate,  having  never  been  pleased  with  his  brother's  mar- 
riage ;  so  that  she  and  her  mother  were  left  destitute,  and 
concluded  to  seek  their  fortune  in  America.  With  the 
*mall  avails  resulting  from  the  sale  of  such  of  their  furni- 
ture as  their  Uncle  left  them,  they  intended  to  hire  a  few 
rooms,  where  they  could  be  together,  and  support  them- 
selves by  fine  needle-work  and  embroidery,  which,  hereto- 
fore, they  had  only  performed  as  an  amusement.  On  the 
passage  to  America  her  mother  died  of  ship-fever,  and 
was  buried  in  the  sea  but  too  days  before  they  landed 
in  New  York.  Amy  herself  was  sick  of  the  same  dis- 
ease, and,  when  the  ship  arrived  in  port,  was  obliged  to 
be  carried  to  a  boarding-house,  where  she  staid  until  the 
landlady  informed  her  that  her  money  was  all  spent,  and 
she  must  leave.  Indeed,  the  poor  girl  was  glad  to  do  so, 
for  she  had  not  received  the  kindest  treatment.  One  of 
her  fellow-boarders,  however,  taking  compassion  upon 
the  friendless  child,  advised  her  to  leave  the  city,  and  go 
out  in  the  country  in  search  of  a  place.  She  had  even 
interested  herself  to  make  up  a  purse  for  Amy,  and 
placed  her  in  the  cars  for  A .  But,  wholly  unac- 
quainted with  the  country*and  its  customs,  she  found 
herself  late  one  evening  wandering  along  the  high  road  to 
Queenstown,  the  small  bundle  on  her  arm  containing  all 
her  store  of  worldly  treasure.  Sick  and  faint  she  ventured 
to  knock  at  the  door  of  one  or  two  houses,  and  timidly 
ask  leave  to  stay  all  night,  which  request  was  decidedly 
refused,  until,  utterly  discouraged,  the  desolate  orphan 
seated  herself  upon  the  step  of  Widow  Morse's  door, 
and  began  to  cry.  The  kind-hearted  woman  soon  dis 


IN    DISGUISE.  317 

covered  her,  brought  hei  into  the  house,  put  her  to  bed, 
and  took  care  of  her.  After  waiting  a  few  days,  and 
finding  that  Amy  did  not  recover  as  fast  as  she  wished, 
she  determined  to  call  in  her  own  physician.  After  a  few 
visits  the  doctor  became  so  much  interested  in  her,  that 
he  proposed  to  his  wife  to  take  her  home,  thinking  it 
would  be  a  kindness  to  both  her  and  the  child,  as  Mrs. 
Jenks  was  always  very  lonely  when  Maurice  was  at  sea. 
They  supposed  he  would  have  gone  before  this  time  ;  but 
the  vessel  in  which  he  last  sailed  as  second  mate  was 
under  repairs,  and  he  had  been  delayed  week  after  week. 
When  Alice  was  able  to  ride,  one  of  her  earliest  visits 
was  to  Amy  Campbell.  Nor  when  she  had  seen  her  was 
she  at  all  surprised  that  Dr.  Jenks,  and  his  wife,  as  well 
as  their  son,  had  become  so  warmly  attached  to  her.  If 
one  word  were  used  to  express  the  impression  she  con- 
veyed to  a  stranger,  it  would  be  purity.  Her  calm,  serene 
eyes,  and  pure,  white  brow,  from  which  her  hair  was 
simply  parted,  and  gathered  into  a  braid  around  her  clas- 
sic head,  all  betokened  a  soul  at  peace.  She  could  not 
be  called  handsome,  though  those  who  loved  her  best 
thought  her  so.  Her  skin  was  very  fair,  as  is  generally 
the  case  with  hair  which  approaches  to  red  ;  her  nose 
was,  perhaps,  a  little  too  aspiring,  but  her  mouth,  though 
rather  wide,  was  beautifully  formed,  and  displayed  a  row 
of  teeth  of  pearly  whiteness,  which  many  a  dentist  might 
envy  for  a  model.  When  she  spoke,  there  was  just 
enough  of  the  rich  brogue  to  make  hor  conversation  irre- 
sistibly charming,  while  about  her  whole  appearance 
there  was  a  modesty  and  dignity  which  proved  that  she 
had  been  accustomed  to  good  society.  Indeed,  the  few 
27* 


318  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

articles  of  clothing  which  she  had  saved  from  the  wreck 
of  her  fortune,  showed  that  she  had  not  always  been  a 
dependant.  Maurice  regarded  her  with  a  feeling  amount- 
ing to  veneration,  and  was  conscious  of  an  increase  of 
self-respect,  that  he  had  been  able  to  win  the  love  of  such 
a  being. 

On  first  meeting  Alice  he  was  much  embarrassed,  as  he 
thought  of  their  last  interview ;  but,  by  referring  to  his 
affection  for  Louis,  and  her  own  gratitude  for  his  father's 
services  during  her  late  sickness,  she  soon  put  him  en- 
tirely at  his  ease.  After  some  general  conversation,  they 
arose  to  leave,  Maurice  having  promised  Emma  to  bring 
Amy  to  Lindenwood  before  he  sailed.  They  took  theii 
departure,  having  been  much  pleased  with  their  call. 

In  the  meantime  Uncle  Stephen  had  received  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Huntinglon,  in  which  he  informed  him,  that 
having  heard  of  Edith's  "  misfortune,"  he  had  written 
her,  and  renewed  his  proposals  of  marriage.  She,  how- 
ever, though  confessing  for  him  a  strong  affection,  firmly 
declined  accepting  them. 

Mr.  Stanley's  family  kept  up  a  brisk  correspondence 
with  Edith  ;  or  rather  they  wrote  frequently  ;  she,  occa- 
sionally. When  informed  by  her  mother  of  the  betrothal 
of  Alice  and  Clarence,  she  wrote  a  severe  critique  upon 
his  proceedings.  I  will  quote  from  her  letter  : 

"  In  what  you  state  concerning  Clarence  and  Alice,  I 
cannot  say  it  is  wholly  unexpected.  But  as  long  as  she 
was  Alice  Carey,  he  could  not  be  expected  to  marry  her, 
however  much  he  might  love  her.  I  have  thought  of  his 
conduct  as  compared  with  that  of  his  friend,  who,  when 
he  heard  that,  from  being,  as  he  supposed,  the  daughter 


IN    DISGUISE.  319 

of  Mr.  Stanley,  of  Lindenwood,  1  was  reduced  to  the 
situation  of  child  to  an  insane  dependant,  lost,  no  time 
in  urging  upon  me  that  affection  which  I  had  heretofore 
so  proudly  refused.  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  that  such 
is  my  respect  and  admiration  of  him  for  the  course  he 
pursued,  that  I  should  have  accepted  his  proposals,  and 
endeavored  to  render  myself  worthy  of  a  place  in  his 
noble  heart,  had  it  not  been  for  my  solemn  determination 
to  subject  no  man  I  love  to  the  disgrace  which  has  fallen 
upon  me." 

1  cannot  give  a  better  idea  of  the  perfect  trust  Alice 
reposed  in  her  lover,  and  the  mutual  confidence  existing 
between  them,  than  to  state  that  when  she  had  read  the 
letter  of  Edith,  she  put  it  into  his  hand,  with  a  smile, 
saying,  "  Poor  girl !  how  little  she  understands  our  afftc- 
tion  for  each  other." 

Whatever  Clarence  thought  of  the  insinuations  it  con 
tained,  he  took  no  pains  to  vindicate  himself;  but  Uncle 
Stephen,  whose  agitation  at  Edith's  confession  of  affec- 
tion for  Mr.  Huntington,  he  had  been  entirely  unable 
to  account  for,  told  Alice  his  ward  had  asked  and  ob- 
tained his  consent  long  before  her  relation  to  the  family 
was  known. 

"  Before  that,"  continued  Uncle  Stephen,  waxing  very 
wrathy,  "  1  had  concluded,  if  he  didn't  marry  you,  that  1 
should  do  it  myself." 

This  determination  created  such  a  roar  of  laughter  that 
his  good  humor  was  entirely  restored.  Alice  put.  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  saying,  "  Dear  Uncle  Stephen, 
I'm  so  glad  you  didn't  ask  me,  for  I  shouldn't  have  dared 
to  say  no.  The  chairs  would  all  have  been  kicked  to 


320  THE    HOUSEH    LD    ANGEL 

pieces,  and  1  can't  say  what  else  would  have  happened 
to  the  furniture,  and  she  gave  an  arch  lock  at  Clarence. 

"  Go  along,  Puss  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  man,  trying  to 
disengage  her  arms,  "  you're  growing  impudent.'' 

But  Alice  wouldn't  go  ;  the  idea  was  too  amusing, 
and  she  laughed  and  laughed  until  he  was  absolutely 
obliged,  he  said,  to  take  her  in  his  lap  to  keep  her  quiet. 

It  was  now  the  first  of  October,  and  Alice  was  to  be 
married  at  Christmas,  her  father  having  given  Ins  con- 
sent, on  the  condition  that  she  should  remain  at  home 
for  a  few  years.  Indeed,  it  would  have  been  quite  a 
breaking  up  of  the  family  to  have  Alice  leave,  for  with 
her  would  go  also  Clarence  and  Uncle  Stephen.  Ger- 
trude had  been  earnestly  invited  to  accompany  a  sick 
friend  to  the  south,  for  the  winter,  and  she  had  at  length 
consented  to  do  so.  Alice  was  very  unwilling  to  part 
with  her  sister ;  but  Gertrude  whispered,  "  It  is  better 
that  I  should  be  away,"  and  Alice  urged  her  no  more. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stanley  were  intending  to  journey,  and, 
as  they  wished  to  take  Emma  with  them,  they  hurried 
their  preparations,  that  they  might  return  before  it  would 
be  time  for  him  to  accompany  Gertrude  to  New  York,  to 
meet  her  friend. 

The  few  weeks  the  sisters  passed  together,  were  ren- 
dered delightful  by  the  sincere  affection  now  existing  be- 
tween them.  Every  evening  Clarence  read  aloud,  and 
both  he  and  Alice  avoided,  when  in  her  presence,  any 
reference  to  the  deep  love  which  filled  their  hearts,  lest 
they  should  pain  the  one  to  whom  they  were  so  much 
indebted. 

When  about  a  hundred  miles  from   home,  Emma  left 


IN    DISGUISE.  &il 

her  parents,  to  see  a  school-mate,  who  had  long  urged 
her  friend  to  visit  her.  She  was  to  travel  across  the 
country  for  about  fifteen  miles  in  a  stage-coach,  when 
her  friend  would  meet  her  with  a  carriage,  and  take  her 
home.  Emma  had  never  before  journeyed  in  this  way, 
and  for  a  short  time  she  was  much  amused  by  watching 
the  company  into  which  she  was  thrown.  This  consisted 
of  an  old  lady,  with  a  considerable  amount  of  small  bag- 
gage, which  reminded  Emma  of  the  anecdote  she  had 
heard  of  Hannah  Adams,  with  her  "  little  box,  great  box, 
bandbox,  and  bundle."  Certainly  the  old  lady's  baggage 
equalled  that  of  the  well-known  lady  in  number,  if  not  in 
dimensions.  She  had  an  umbrella,  which  was  carefully 
cased  in  green  silk,  the  bag  made  wide  enough  to  hold 
also  a  parasol.  Then  she  had  a  large  carpet-bag,  which  re- 
quired constant  care  to  keep  it  upright ;  as  the  good  lady 
took  pains  to  inform  her  fellow-travellers  it  contained 
"  three  bottles  of  currant  wine  I'm  carrying  to  my  darter." 
In  addition  to  these  articles,  she  had  twisted  carefully  on 
her  arm  the  strings  of  two  smaller  bags,  saying,  with  an 
expressive  nod  to  Emma,  as  she  jerked  them, "  So  as  not 
to  lose  them,  you  know."  But  her  greatest  care  seemed 
to  be  a  cap-box,  which,  having  nothing  to  hold  by,  was 
continually  slipping  from  her  lap,  until  her  young  com- 
panion, taking  pity  upon  her  distress,  kindly  offered  to 
relieve  her  of  this  part  of  her  burden.  The  old  lady  was 
so  much  pleased  with  this  attention,  that  she  confiden- 
tially informed  her  that  it  contained,  in  addition  "  to  the 
caps  I  generally  wear  on  great  occasions,  a  bran  new  one 
which  I  bought  just  before  I  left  home,  as  my  darter  is 
exposed  to  a  sight  o'  company." 


322  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

Sitting  opposite  Emma  were  two  girls  near  her  own 
age,  dressed  in  the  height  of  fashion,  who  at  first  regarded 
the  elderly  lady  with  illy-concealed  contempt ;  but.  at 
.ength,  wearied  with  the  monotony  of  the  ride,  they 
turned  toward  her,  after  a  few  moments  of  whispering 
during  which  Emma  plainly  distinguished  the  word 
«  fun." 

Occupying  the  same  seat  with  our  young  traveller, 
but  separated  from  her  by  a  boy  apparently  of  a  dozen 
summers,  was  a  gentleman,  of  whom,  as  she  sat  by  his 
side,  she  had  as  yet  seen  nothing,  except  the  color  of  his 
pantaloons,  which,  from  a  casual  glance,  she  perceived 
were  of  the  finest  broadcloth.  The  back  seat  was  occu- 
pied by  a  child,  and  two  coarse  looking  men. 

The  girls  soon  made  their  purpose  apparent  to  all  but 
the  object  of  their  especial  attention.  Totally  unsuspic- 
ious of  their  cruel  design,  and  supposing  from  their  dress 
that  they  were  ladies,  the  aged  woman  greatly  facilitated 
their  wishes,  and  threw  herself  completely  into  their 
power.  They  soon  drew  from  her  her  name,  which  was 
Fowler ;  where  she  lived,  that  she  had  been  a  widow 
eight  years,  that  she  was  left  with  two  children,  Ralph 
and  Julia,  and  enough  property  to  carry  her  in  comfort 
to  the  end  of  her  life.  Under  the  pretence  of  great  inter- 
est in  her  welfare,  they  continued  to  ask  her  many  insult- 
ing questions,  until  Emma,  whose  countenance  had  ex- 
pressed her  strong  indignation,  could  bear  it  no  longer, 
and  was  just  about  to  speak,  when  the  bag  containing 
the  wine  fell  to  the  floor.  The  old  lady  caught  it  up  in 
terror,  fearing  the  bottles  were  broken.  One  of  the  young 
g/rls,  "trying  to  conceal  her  mirth,  proposed  that  she 


IN    DISGUISE.  323 

should  treat  the  company,  saying,  "  I  am  very  fond  of 
currant  wine,  and  I  dare  say  your  darter  would  never  miss 
it." 

"  Yes,"  called  out  one  of  the  men  from  the  back  seat, 
'  I  second  that  motion." 

The  good  woman  glanced  from  one  to  another,  as  if 
bewildered,  to  find  herself  made  an  object  of  ridicule, 
while  Emma,  with  an  indignant  glance  at  the  offenders, 
said  in  a  kind,  but  firm  voice,  "  Madam,  would  it  not  be 
well  for  you  to  change  places  with  me.  I  think  I  can 
ensure  you  my  seat  free  from  insult."  Emma  afterwards 
remembered  that  the  gentleman  in  the  corner  rose  up  as 
if  about  to  speak,  but,  upon  hearing  her,  instantly  re- 
sumed his  seat. 

It  was  really  pitiable  to  witness  the  disappointment  of 
the  honest  old  lady,  when  she  found  the  girls  had  been 
questioning  her  for  their  own  amusement. 

When  Emma  had  accomplished  her  purpose,  and  they 
were  seated  so  that  they  could  converse  conveniently, 
Mrs.  Fowler  said  to  her  companion,  "  It's  really  affecting 
to  see  two  girls  as  nicely  dressed  as  they  are,  know  noth- 
ing more  of  good  manners.  For  my  part  I'm  astonished 
that  their  folks  didn't  teach  them  better,  or  else  keep 
them  shut  up  at  home,  where  they  could  do  no  harm." 
As  she  thought  of  her  free  communications  to  them,  es- 
pecially the  account  of  her  husband's  sickness  and  death, 
about  which  they  had  pretended  such  sympathy,  the  kind 
lady  could  not  help  weeping. 

Her  companion  at  first  tried  to  divert  her  attention  to 
the  beautiful  view  from  the  coach  window,  but,  finding 
she  had  really  taken  the  matter  to  heart,  she  said,  "Deal 


324  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

madam,  believe  me,  their  conduct  cannot  injure  you.  It 
irf  really  beneath  your  notice."  Then,  having  prevailed 
upon  her  to  allow  the  bag  containing  the  wine  to  be 
placed  between  herself  and  the  boy,  where  it  could  stand 
firmly,  she  gradually  drew  her  into  a  conversation  upon 
general  topics,  which,  after  a  time,  proved  of  interest  to 
all  present.  If  the  intention  of  the  rude  girls  to  exhibit 
her  for  the  sake  of  ridiculing  her  peculiarities  had  been 
apparent,  the  desire  of  Emma  to  represent  her  in  the 
most  favorable  light,  was  not  less  so.  By  bringing  for- 
ward themes  which  were  familiar,  Emma  soon  discov- 
ered a  fund  of  good  sense  in  her  aged  companion,  soft- 
ened by  many  years  of  experience,  which  were  a  real 
treat  to  her.  She  found,  too,  that  Mrs.  Fowler  was  a 
humble,  trusting  child  of  God,  and  this  was  a  new  tie 
between  them. 

When  they  drew  near  the  place  where  the  young  lady 
was  to  meet  her  friend,  it  was  with  real  regret  that  she 
thought  of  the  parting,  and  she  frankly  expressed  her  feel- 
ing, which  was  warmly  reciprocated  by  her  companion, 
who,  with  old-fashioned  hospitality,  urged  her  to  come  to 
P and  make  her  a  long  visit. 

When  Emma  reached  her  destination,  in  turning  to 
look  for  her  bag  which  she  had  placed  at  her  feet,  she 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  gentleman  who  had  occupied 
the  corner  seat,  but  whose  presence  even  she  had  forgot' 
ten,  so  absorbed  had  she  been  by  her  interest  in  her  fel- 
low traveller.  In  that  one  glance  she  perceived  that  he 
had  a  fine,  intellectual  cast  of  countenance,  with  a  pierc- 
ing black  eye,  above  which  rose  a  perfectly  magnificent 


IN    DISGUISE.  325 

forehead.     He  had  changed  his  seat,  that  he  might  the 
more  readily  listen  to  their  animated  conversation. 

The  moment  the  coach  stopped,  he  sprang  from  it,  and 
politely  assisted  her  to  descend  the  steps,  saying,  as  she 
waited  for  her  trunk,  "  It  would  greatly  add  to  the  obli- 
gation I  am  under,  if  you  would  give  me  a  name  by 
which  my  mother  and  myself  can  recur  to  a  ride  so  fruit- 
ful of  interest  to  both  of  us." 

Though  much  embarrassed  by  the  respectful  admira- 
tion expressed  by  the  gentleman,  Emma  could  not  refuse 
so  reasonable  a  request,  and,  hastily  passing  him  her 
card,  and  bowing  a  final  adieu  to  the  old  lady,  who  was 
leaning  from  the  coach  window,  she  hastened  to  meet 
her  friend,  who  had  been  eagerly  calling  her  from  a  car- 
riage standing  near. 

The  sight  of  a  beautiful  phaeton,  with  a  noble  span  of 
prancing  horses,  rather  induced  the  supposition  in  her 
younger  companions  that  they  had  been  mistaken  in  the 
station  they  had,  in  fancy,  allotted  her  in  the  social  scale 
From  her  simple,  though  elegant  travelling  dress,  so  dit' 
ferent  from  their  rich,  changeable  silks,  and  her  modest, 
unassuming  deportment,  they  had  set  her  down  as  a 
teacher,  or  certainly  one  in  moderate  circumstances,  es- 
pecially as  she  had  taken  such  pains  to  interest  herself  in 
the  welfare  of  a  garrulous  old  lady.  They  were  quite  as 
much  surprised  as  she  had  been,  at  the  discovery  of  the. 
relation  existing  between  her  and  the  distinguished  look- 
ing gentleman  who  was  seated  in  the  opposite  corner, 
and  their  checks  burned  with  shame  as  they  remembered 
what  fun  they  had  made  of  her  little  Ralph,  —  asking 
whether  he  went  barefoot  —  they  had  heard  that  was  con- 
28 


826  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

sidered  more  healthy.  They  would  willingly  have  given 
up  on  ;  night  at  the  theatre,  could  they  but  glance  at  the 
name  upon  the  small  card,  which  the  gentleman  had 
placed  so  carefully  in  his  pocket-book,  when  the  phaston 
containing  the  giver  was  no  longer  in  sight.  But  they 
were  obliged  to  cover  their  confusion  as  well  as  they  could 
by  a  show  of  indifference,  until  the  coach  again  stopped 
at  an  elegant  mansion,  and  a  really  beautiful  lady  came 
smilingly  to  the  door,  with  a  lovely  child  in  her  arms,  to 
welcome  her  mother  and  brother. 

It  was  evidently  with  some  difficulty  that  the  old  .ady 
refrained  from  some  parting  remark  to  the  girls  who  had 
so  rudely  insulted  her ;  but  contenting  herself  with  a 
look  of  triumph  as  she  saw  them  glance  with  astonish- 
ment at  her  destination,  she  carefully  gathered  up  her 
various  articles  of  baggage,  and  left  them  to  their  reflec- 
tions, Mr.  Fowler  bowing  with  great  dignity  as  the  coach 
drove  away. 


CHAPTER     XXVII. 

H  On  you,  most  loved,  with  anxious  fear  I  wait, 
And  from  your  judgment  must  expect  my  fate." 

Addison, 

AFTER  a  delightful  week  with  her  friend,  Emma  took 
the  returning  coach  for  home,  and  it  must  be  confessed, 
as  she  passed  slowly  over  the  dusty  road,  her  thoughts 
often  recurred  to  the  travelling  companions,  from  whom 
she  had  so  recently  parted,  with  interest.  The  intellect- 
ual countenance  of  Mr.  Ralph  Fowler  (she  well  remem- 
bered the  name),  was  firmly  daguerreotyped  upon  her 
memory,  while  recollections  of  the  quaint  expressions  of 
the  warm-hearted  old  lady,  often  brought  a  smile  to  hei 
lips.  But  she  had  never  been  able  to  account  satisfactor- 
ily to  herself  for  the  fact  that  he  had  not  come  forward 
to  the  relief  of  his  mother,  as  he  would  naturally  be  ex- 
pected to  do. 

But  all  her  queries,  and  all  her  remembrances,  were  lor 
the  time  forgotten,  when  she  reached  home,  and  found 
Gertrude  on  the  point  of  starting  for  New  York  with 
her  father,  who  had  arrived  with  her  mother  a  few  days 
earlier.  Then  came  preparations  for  the  wedding  of  Alice, 
which  occupied  all  her  time,  and  all  her  thoughts ;  for,' 
though  the  young  bride  was  very  simple  in  her  tastes,  yet 
Uncle  Stephen  determined  that  the  bridal  trosseau  should 
be  worthy  of  her;  and  he  had  put  into  Mrs.  Stanley'* 
hands  a  generous  sum  for  the  purpose.  With  Ihe  con- 

327 


328  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

sent  and  approbation  of  her  mother,  he  also  determined 
to  refurnish  for  his  child,  as  he  now  called  Alice,  two  of 
the  suite  of  rooms  he  and  Clarence  had  occupied.  These 
consisted  of  a  spacious  apartment,  over  the  large  parlor, 
ivhich  they  had  used  as  a  private  sitting-room.  Out  of 
this  were  two  bed-rooms  which  opened  into  a  side-hall, 
or  into  the  front  hall  through  the  large  room.  He  also 
wished  to  throw  out  a  bow-window  corresponding  to  the 
one  in  the  room  below,  which  had  always  been  such  a 
favorite  resort  with  Alice,  and  which  would  not  only  add 
to  the  beauty  of  the  house,  but  would  give  a  fine  view 
of  the  town  from  the  window. 

There  was  a  vast  deal  of  mystery  in  all  this  to  Alice, 
who  had  been  required  to  promise  that  she  would  Got 
venture  within  the  limits  of  Uncle  Stephen's  premises. 
When  asked  her  preference  with  regard  to  furniture,  she 
laughingly  replied  that,  as  he  was  to  live  with  them,  she 
had  but  one  wish  to  express  concerning  it,  which  was 
that  it  might  be  strong.  But  seeing  that  he  looked  grave 
and  mortified,  she  instantly  begged  him  to  forgive  her, 
eaying  :  "  I  do  believe  so  much  kindness,  and  so  much 
happiness  are  not  good  for  me.  I  am  really  growing  to 
be  wanting,  in  respect,  to  my  dearest  Uncle." 

"My  child,"  replied  the  old  gentleman,  softly,  "  You 
shall  never  have  occasion  to  complain  of  me  in  that  way 
again  ; "  and  he  kept  his  word. 

In  the  midst  of  the  bustle  of  preparation,  Alice  found 
time  every  few  days  for  a  ride  on  Felix  to  the  village, 
though  it  required  much  pleading  on  her  part  before 
either  Clarence  or  her  parents  would  consent  that  she 
should  resume  her  favorite  exercise,  which  had  proved  so 


IN    DISGUISE. 

neaiiy  fatal.  But  she  longed  to  visit  her  protege's,  who 
had  considerably  increased  in  number,  and  at  length  she 
gained  their  relu3tant  consent.  Mrs.  Hayden's  cough 
caused  her  much  anxiety,  and  when  she  consulted  the 
Doctor  about  her,  he  only  shook  his  head.  Minnie  was 
growing  every  day  more  interesting,  and  the  accounts 
from  Dexter's  teacher  as  to  his  progress  were  very  flatter- 
ing. Now,  however,  the  Preceptor  who  had  kept  the 
Academy  for  many  years,  and  who  had  taken  such  a 
pleasure  in  aiding  his  young  pupil,  was  making  arrange- 
ments to  pass  the  winter  in  Charleston,  S.  C.,  on  account 
of  a  bronchial  difficulty;  and  Alice  feared  his  successor 
would  not  feel  a  corresponding  interest  in  him.  She 
had  procured  a  number  of  elementary  books  for  Minnie, 
and  at  every  successive  visit  the  child  was  anxious  to  ex- 
hibit her  progress.  Dexter  also  took  unwearied  pains 
with  her  pronunciation,  which  was  uncommonly  distinct 
for  so  young  a  child. 

As  Maurice  had  now  sailed  for  the  East  Indies,  Alice 
must  also  call  occasionally  to  cheer  Amy  in  his  absence ; 
and  this,  in  addition  to  three  families  in  which  slit"  dis- 
tributed the  bounty  of  Uncle  Stephen,  fully  occupied  her 
time.  One  evening,  however,  near  the  middle  of  No- 
vember, she  consented  to  accompany  the  family  from 
Lindenwood  to  an  opening  lecture  before  the  Lyceum, 
which  course  had  commenced  under  the  most  Mattering 
auspices.  Her  father,  mother,  Emma  and  Clarence  were 
of  the  party,  and  though  they  arrived  early,  the  spacious 
new  hali  was  filled  to  over/lowing.  It  was  with  some 
difficulty  that  they  obtained  scats  more  than  two-thirds 
back  from  the  rostrum.  When  the  lecturer  arose,  Kiiima, 
28* 


0-')0  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

who  was  seated  next  her  sister,  gave  a  sudJen  start, 
while  a  bright  flush  of  pleasure  spread  all  over  her  coun- 
tenance. She  recognized  Mr.  Ralph  Fowler,  her  travel- 
ling companion,  and  when  he,  with  a  quick  glance  around 
the  large  audience,  let  his  keen  eye  rest  for  one  brief  mo- 
ment upon  her,  Alice  was  entirely  at  a  loss  to  conceive 
the  cause  of  her  sister's  sudden  confusion.  On  her  re- 
turn home,  Emma  had,  indeed,  recounted  her  adventure 
with  the  old  lady,  but  a  secret  interest,  unacknowledged 
even  to  herself,  had  prevented  any  reference  to  the  son. 

But  soon  the  speaker  was  lost  in  his  subject,  and 
proved  himself  to  be  gifted  with  no  common  mind  or  or- 
dinary acquirements.  At  the  close  of  the  lecture,  and 
when  all  were  loud  in  their  praises  of  the  performance. 
Mr.  Fowler  was  eagerly  sought  by  the  principal  gentle- 
men of  the  town,  that  they  might  express  to  him  their 
high  gratification  in  his  manner  of  treating  his  sub- 
ject. He  listened  politely,  but  all  the  time  had  his  eye 
upon  a  group  who  had  been  detained  in  their  passage 
out. 

Emma  turned  for  one  parting  glance ;  their  eyes  met, 
and  he  instantly  excused  himself  from  the  gentlemen 
near  him,  as  he  wished  to  speak  with  an  acquaintance 
who  was  leaving  the  hall. 

The  young  girl  received  him  cordially,  though  with 
considerable  confusion  ;  introduced  him  to  her  family, 
and  then  inquired  for  his  mother. 

"  Ah  ! "  said  he,  "  I  had  like  to  have  forgotten  a  mes- 
sage she  sent  you,"  and  leaning  forward  he  spoke  a  few 
words  in  a  low  tone.  The  teacher  of  the  Academy  then 
approached  and  informed  Mr.  Stanley,  with  whom  he 


IN    DISGUISE. 


331 


was  well  acquainted,  that  he  hoped  to  be  so  happy  as  tc 
secure  Mr.  Fowler's  services  in  the  school  during  his 
absence. 

After  a  polite  invitation  to  the  lecturer  to  call  upon 
them,  Mr.  Stanley  and  his  family  took  their  departure, 
eager  to  ascertain  from  Emma  the  commencement  of 
her  acquaintance  with  the  distinguished  stranger. 

So  cordially  did  Mr.  Fowler  answer  his  invitation  to 
Lindenwood  that  the  next  day,  and  the  next,  and  every 
day,  for  a  week,  he  might  be  found  sitting  in  the  large 
parlor,  entirely  unmindful  of  the  vigorous  hammering 
that  was  going  on  over  his  head.  Emma  often  com- 
plained, with  a  heightened  color,  that  it  was  very  incon- 
venient to  have  so  constant  a  visitor,  when  there  was  so 
much  to  be  done ;  but  if  he  were  a  few  moments  later 
than  usual,  her  frequent  journeys  to  the  bow  window, 
from  whence  she  could  see  some  distance  up  the  street, 
or  the  sudden  beating  of  her  heart  when  she  heard  his 
well-known  step  in  the  hall,  convinced  her  friends  that 
she  was  willing  to  be  subjected  to  the  inconvenience, 
for  the  sake  of  the  pleasure  she  received  in  his  society. 

Nor  was  she  alone  in  this  feeling,  for  he  had  rendered 
himself  a  favorite  with  every  member  of  the  family. 
His  large  fund  of  information,  as  well  as  his  extensive 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  convinced  Mr.  Stanley 
that  he  would  not  always  be  teacher  in  a  private  acad- 
emy ;  but,  when  he  hinted  his  surprise  that  Mr.  Fowler 
should  content  himself  with  such  a  situation,  the  abrupt 
termination  of  the  subject  showed  plainly  that  it  waa 
one  upon  which  he  did  not  wish  to  speak. 

ii  his  sole  business  in  Queenstown  had  been  to  pros- 


332  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

ecute  his  acquaintance  at  Lindenwood,  he  cou  d  not 
have  been  more  constant  in  his  visits.  When,  at  the 
close  of  the  first  week,  the  time  for  his  labors  in  the 
academy  arrived,  he  suddenly  discovered  that  premature 
engagements  would  not  allow  him  to  assume  that  re- 
sponsibility, and  gave  place  to  another,  whom  he  recom- 
mended as  well  qualified  for  the  office.  And  when,  a 
few  days  later,  he  sought  an  interview  with  Mr.  Stanley, 
and  asked  permission  to  address  his  daughter  Emma, 
the  proposition  was  not  wholly  unexpected ;  but  he 
replied  that  their  acquaintance  had  been  short,  and,  as 
yet,  they  knew  little  of  each  other. 

Mr.  Fowler  professed  himself  to  be  perfectly  satisfied, 
but  said  that,  of  course,  he  could  not  expect  Mr.  Stanley 
to  be  so,  and  gave  him  references  to  a  dozen  literary 
gentlemen,  to  whom  he  could  refer.  On  receiving  the 
most  satisfactory  information  from  two  of  these  gentle- 
men, the  father  no  longer  hesitated  to  give  his  consent 
to  the  ardent  lover ;  and  when,  at  the  wedding  of  Alice, 
Emma  stood  up  with  Mr.  Fowler,  it  was  as  his  be- 
trothed. 

The  event  of  the  marriage  of  Mr.  Clarence  Sydney 
with  the  daughter  of  Squire  Stanley  was  one  of  no  little 
interest  in  the  village  of  Queenstown  ;  and  when,  in 
compliance  with  the  cards  of  invitation,  a  large  company 
assembled  at  Lindenwood,  the  brilliant  illumination,  the 
beauty  of  the  bride,  the  pride  of  the  groom  as  he  entered 
with  his  fair  lady  leaning  upon  his  arm,  the  profusion  of 
orange-flowers,  the  richness  of  the  cake,  the  fondness  of 
her  father  and  mother,  the  pleased  emotion  of  Uncle 
Stephen,  were  the  universal  themes  of  conversation. 


IN    DISGUISE. 


Mrs.  Sydney  had  only  the  day  before  her  marriage 
hern  introduced  to  her  bridal  apartments,  and  she  found 
ii  difficult  to  realize  the  change  wrought  in  so  short  a 
time.  It  was  truly  a  fairy  scene  as  Alice  first  viewed  it, 
with  its  decorations  so  brilliantly  brought  to  view  by  the 
lights  from  the  large  chandelier,  with  its  diamond-shaped 
pendants. 

Within  the  arch  formed  by  the  bow-window,  from 
which  hung  rich  damask  curtains,  giving  a  roseate  hue 
to  all  around,  stood  a  small,  carved  chair  before  a  table 
of  exquisite  workmanship.  This  table  contained  the 
most  elaborate  materials  for  sewing,  writing,  and  draw- 
tug  ;  and  in  a  partly  open  drawer  was  a  letter  written  to 
herself,  addressed  "  To  my  little  almoner." 

Alice  well  knew  by  whom  that  letter  was  written. 

On  many  accounts,  Mr.  Stanley  was  disappointed 
that  Edith  had  not  accepted  the  earnest  invitation  to  be 
present  at  the  wedding  of  Alice.  He  had  hoped  much 
from  her  visit  at  such  a  time  to  break  down  her  pride 
and  unwillingness  to  accept  a  home  from  those  who 
were  so  eager  to  offer  her  one.  There  was  another 
reason  why  he  had  anxiously  expected  her.  This  was 
the  fact  that  her  mother,  who  had  left  her  home,  for  the 
first  time  for  many  years,  soon  after  Alice  had  been 
made  acquainted  with  her  deception,  had  lately  returned 
in  an  enfeebled  state  of  health  ;  and  he  was  extremely 
anxious  that  a  reconciliation  should  take  place  between 
them.  But  Edith  only  wrote  in  reply  that  the  school 
was  still  in  session,  and  her  time  was  not  now  her  own. 

A  few  weeks  after  the  wedding,  Alice  Sydney  had 
joined  her  mother  and  sister  in  the  parlor,  when  the 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

servant  who  had  been  sent  to  the  office  for  lei  ers  re« 
turned  with  a  goodly  budget  of  news.  Emma  blush 
ingly  held  out  her  hand  for  her  "share,  when  her  father., 
who  that  moment  entered,  passed  her  a  thick  envelop*, 
containing,  as  Alice  playfully  remarked,  a  brotherly  note 
to  each  of  the  family,  and  also  a  copy  of  the  last  New 
York  Journal  of  Commerce,  directed  by  the  same  hand. 
This  she  hastily  tore  open,  and,  seeing  nothing  of  special 
interest  to  her,  gave  it  to  her  father  to  read,  while  she 
retired  to  her  own  room  for  the  uninterrupted  enjoyment 
of  her  precious  epistle.  She  had  not  more  than  half 
perused  its  closely  written  pages  before  Alice  ran  to  call 
her,  exclaiming,  "  Emma,  father  wants  you  to  come 
down." 

Thrusting  her  letter  into  her  pocket,  Emma  obeyed, 
and  found  the  whole  family  very  merry  over  a  small 
paragraph  in  the  Journal,  which,  though  marked  with  a 
pencil,  she  had  overlooked.  It  was  as  follows :  "  We 
understand  that  the  next  lecture  before  the  Historical 
Society  will  be  delivered  on  Thursday  evening,  by  Prof. 
Ralph  Fowler,  who  has,  within  a  year,  been  appointed 

to  the  Professorship  of  Languages  in  College,  and 

is  one  of  the  most  popular  lecturers  of  the  day.     A  rich 
literary  feast  may  be  expected." 

"  Really,"  said  Mr.  Stanley,  smiling,  as  he  witnessed 
the  bright  glow  which  overspread  Emma's  face,  "  my 
daughters  are  getting  up  in  the  world.  Here,  without 
knowing  it,  we  have  been  entertaining  the  distinguished 
Prof.  Fowler,  who  is  one  of  the  best  linguists  in  the 
country.  I  had  it  at  my  tongue's  end,  two  or  three 
times,  to  ask  if  he  were  a  relative.  Prof.  B.  and  Dr.  S 


IN    DISGl  1SE.  Ui 

must  have  thought  me  either  an  ignoramus,  or  w.ry 
much  behind  ihe  times,  to  inquire  the  character  of  such 
a  man  ;  "  and  a  slight  shade  of  annoyance  mingled  with 
his  laugh,  as  he  went  to  his  study  to  bring  forth  the 
letters  from  those  gentlemen  for  a  second  reading. 

Jn  the  mean  time,  it  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the 
fond  pride  which  this  announcement  caused  in  the  heart 
of  the  gentle,  loving  girl,  as,  at  the  same  time,  she 
remembered  "  He  is  mine  ;  yes,  he  is  all  my  own.  Not- 
withstanding his  elevated  position,  he  sought  me  in 
preference  to  all  others  ;  "  and  she  hastened  to  her  room 
with  quickened  pulse,  to  finish  reading  her  letter.  Near 
the  close,  or  rather  crossing  the  writing  near  the  top,  and 
filling  up  every  inch  of  the  blank  space,  were  a  few 
lines  explanatory  of  the  information  contained  in  the 
Journal.  It  ran  thus  :  "  And  now,  dearest,  will  you  for- 
give me  for  my  little  deception,  or  rather  that  I  did  not 
tell  you  the  whole  truth.  Had  your  father  asked  me 
how  I  expected  to  support  my  wife,  I  should  have  told 
him  ;  or,  if  you  had  seemed  curious  to  know  where  you 
were  to  live,  or  with  whom  associate,  most  certainly  I 
should  have  informed  you.  But  your  entire  trust  in  me 
was  so  charming,  and  your  respected  father's  confidoiu-f 
so  flattering,  that,  while  I  knew  I  was  not  deceiving  hir 
or  you,  I  was  pleased  with  the  thought  that  time  would 
discover  to  you  my  situation  and  prospects,  though  it 
never  can,  my  true-hearted  Emma,  the  depth  and  fer- 
vency of  my  affection. 

"  But  I  would  say  that,  in  rny  opinion,  unlimited  con- 
fidence is  the  only  safeguard  between  husband  and  wile-. 
S^ot  this,  then,  be  our  last  and  only  secret;  henceioi  IA 


336  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

my  heart,  with  ali  it-  thoughts  and  wishes,  its  joys  a»tci 
sorrows,  shall  he  laid  open  to  you  ;  and  I  trust  by  the 
constancy  of  my  lov-  to  prove  myself  not  unworthy  the 
same  confidence  on  }  our  part,  I  suppose,  long  ere  this. 
you  have  '  guessed,'  and  rightly  too,  that  my  only  in- 
ducement in  going  to  lecture  in  Queenstown  was  to 
prosecute  my  acquaintance  with  you  ;  my  only  business 
there,  after  farther  knowledge  of  your  character,  to  obtain 
the  promise  of  your  hand.  And  now,  my  own  dear 
Emma,  inclosed  you  will  find  a  note  to  your  father, 
begging  him  to  place  no  impediment  in  the  way  of  our 
immediate  union.  Do  not  hesitate  to  grant  my  request. 
There  is  no  reasonable  ground  of  delay.  There  is  a  fine 
house  connected  with  my  professorship,  all  ready  and 
waiting  for  its  mistress.  My  mother  (only  second  to 
one  I  could  name  in  her  admiration  of  you)  and  sister 
are  longing  to  bid  you  welcome  by  the  dear  names  of 
daughter  and  sister.  Let  me,  then,  rejoice  their  hearts 
by  telling  them  that  in  the  course  of  a  month  (I  take 
great  credit  to  myself  for  allowing  so  much  time  to  be 
necessary  for  bridal  preparations)  they  must  be  ready  to 
accompany  me  to  Lindenwood." 

Oh,  those  were  blissful  tears  which  dropped  so  thickly 
Upon  the  closely  written  page,  and  they  welled  up  from 
a  heart  full  of  gratitude  to  her  heavenly  Father  for  giving 
her  so  dear  a  friend,  and  appointing  her  lot  <n  so  pleasant 
a  place ! 

After  sitting  in  a  dreamy  attitude  for  neany  an  hour, 
vainly  trying  to  fix  her  thoughts  upon  any  one  subject 
in  the  letter,  and  as  often  finding  them  settling  Hack  to 
the  one  blessed  conviction  of  his  love,  she  took  f.u«  note 


IN    DISGUISE.  337 

in  her  hand  directed  to  her  father.  It  was  unsealed,  but 
,?he  had  not  a  thought  of  perusing  it.  What  would  her 
father  say  to  bo  so  suddenly  called  to  give  her  up  ?  "A 
month!"  she  thought;  "oh,  I  can't,  I  caw'*/"  and,  in 
the  tumult  of  feeling  caused  by  this  thought,  she  lost  all 
courage  to  present  the  note  to  her  father,  and  stole  gently 
down  the  stairs  to  find  an  opportunity  to  leave  it  on  his 
study-table.  She  was  fortunate  in  finding  his  door 
open  ;  and,  placing  the  letter  in  a  conspicuous  position, 
she  hastily  withdrew. 

When,  that  night,  her  father  was  engaged  in  family 
prayer,  Emma  well  knew  that  he  had  read  the  earnest 
request  of  her  lover,  and  that  he  dreaded  the  coming 
separation.  His  emotion  choked  him  as  he  referred  to 
the  breaking  up  of  the  home  ties  which  bound  them 
together,  and  he  prayed  that,  though  parents  and  chil- 
dren might  be  separated  for  a  time  in  this  world,  they 
might  so  live  as  to  be  united  eternally  in  the  world  of 
spirits. 

Already  much  softened  by  the  thought,  Emma  sobbed 
aloud  ;  and  when,  after  prayer,  her  father  requested  her 
to  accompany  him  to  his  study,  she  was  for  a  few 
moments  wholly  overcome  by  his  unusual  tenderness. 
He  waited  for  her  to  become  more  composed,  when  he 
gently  took  her  hand,  as  he  said,  "  I  suppose  you  know 
the  subject  of  this  letter." 

She  bowed  her  assent. 

«  What  shall  I  tell  him  ?  " 

After  a  vain  attempt  to  speak,  Emma  shook  her  head 

"  May  I  decide  for  you  ?  " 

"  I  will  gladly  leave  it  to  you." 
29 


338  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"  Well,  then,  I  shall  tell  him  I  cannot  give  up  my  child 
so  suddenly.  I  must  have  time  to  accustom  myself  to 
the  thought.  Not  that  that  will  render  it  any  the  le.ss 
painful;  but,  on  many  accounts,  it  would  be  better  to 
have  more  time.  I  have  always  disapproved  of  ha^ty 
marriages.  It  is  now  the  middle  of  winter —  Gertrude  will 
be  home  in  April.  Shall  I  say  the  first  day  of  May  ?  " 

Emma  cast  down  her  eyes  as  she  whispered,  "  If  you 
think  best." 

"  I  suppose,"  continued    Mr.   Stanley,  pleasantly,  "  I 
shall  be  considered  very  hard-hearted  to  refuse  so  earnest 
an  appeal ;  but  I  shall  invite  him  to  pass  his  long  vaca- 
tion with  us,  and  we  will  try  to  help  him  bear  the  disap 
pointment  as  well  as  we  can." 

"  Thank  you,  dear  father,"  replied  Emma,  as  he  ten- 
derly kissed  her,  and  allowed  her  to  withdraw,  when  she 
retired  to  her  mother's  room,  and,  with  many  blushes, 
told  her  what  had  passed. 

As  Alice  returned  one  afternoon  from  a  sleigh-ride 
with  her  husband,  she  found  Uncle  Stephen  in  his  room, 
and  in  tears.  Without  waiting  to  take  off  her  bonnet, 
she  went  instantly  to  him,  and  sat  on  a  low  stool  at  his? 
feet. 

"  Wont  you  let  me  share  your  grief?  "  she  asked,  look- 
ing up  lovingly  in  his  face. 

"  They  are  not  tears  of  sorrow,  my  child,"  he  answered, 
putting  a  letter  into  her  hand. 

It  was  from  Alfred  Huntington,  and  informed  his  kind 
benefactor  that,  after  many  struggles  and  conflicts  with 
himself,  he  had  determined  to  go  out  to  India,  directly 
after  his  graduation  from  the  theological  school,  which 


IN    DISGUISE.  339 

would  be  in  less  than  a  year,  and  devote  his  life  to  the 
service  of  his  Saviour,  in  laboring  for  the  conversion  of 
the  heathen.  "  My  object  in  writing  you  at  this  time,  is 
to  ask  your  advice  whether  I  shall  offer  myself  to  the 
Board  of  Missions,  or  join  my  father  in  the  mission  sup- 
ported by  you.  Of  course  it  would  be  my  desire  to  do 
the  latter  ;  but  I  know  nothing  of  the  expense  necessary, 
and  am  unwilling  to  tax  your  generosity  farther.  There 
is  one  subject,  too,  which  troubles  me,  if  I  take  the  first 
course,  and  apply  to  the  Board.  That  is  with  reference 
to  my  going  alone,  which,  I  have  been  informed,  they 
object  to,  or  that  they  much  prefer  their  missionaries  shall 
be  married  men.  There  is  only  one  woman  I  have  ever 
loved,  and  as  I  cannot  marry  her,  I  must  go  alone.  This 
is  another  reason  why  it  would  be  desirable  that  I  should 
go  into  my  father's  family." 

Alice  read  the  letter  with  great  interest,  and  put  it 
back  into  his  hand  without  speaking. 

"  It's  what  I've  been  praying  for  ever  since  he  was  a 
boy,"  sobbed  Uncle  Stephen,  wholly  overcome,  "  and  to 
see  how  God  answers  all  my  poor  prayers,  makes  me  feel 
more  insignificant  than  ever.  About  poor  Edith,"  he  con- 
tinued, when  he  was  more  composed,  "  I'm  afraid  the  boy 
will  have  to  give  her  up,  though  sometimes  I  think  God 
has  mercies  in  store  for  her,  and  has  ordered  all  this  to 
humble  her  proud  heart." 

!>•  '  dele  Stephen  !  How  often  he  repeated,  for  the 
nr.v.  •  •  days,  that  lie  had  nothing  more  to  ask  for,  and 
the  influence  of  that  communication  seemed  to  open  his 
heart  to  the  wants  of  the  needy  more  than  ever.  Though 
by  his  connection  with  the  family  a  very  handsome  sum 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 


was  added  to'  its  yearly  income,  certainly  quite  as  much 
as  his  nephew  would  accept ;  yet  his  own  expenses  were 
not  a  tithe  to  the  interest  from  his  large  fortune.  He 
often  said  to  Alice,  who  was  his  only  confidant,  "  Draw 
freely,  child ;  the  more  is  taken  out,  the  fuller  the  bank 
is."  And  so,  indeed,  it  seemed  to  be.  No  one  could  do 
him  a  greater  favor  than  to  place  in  his  way  a  deserving 
object  of  charity.  He  had  been  in  the  habit  for  years, 
beside  the  entire  support  of  his  own  mission  among  the 
Hindoos,  of  sending  large  sums  to  the  benevolent  societies 
of  the  day ;  but  his  own  chosen  way  was  to  seek  out 
destitute  objects,  and  administer  to  their  relief.  If  they 
were  worthy,  that  was  sufficient ;  if  unworthy,  he  would 
plead  "  So  much  the  more  reason  they  should  be  helped 
to  do  well."  No  suffering  child  of  Adam  was  ever  re- 
fused sympathy  by  him.  But  if  he  found  that  he  had 
been  imposed  upon,  or  that  any  person  whom  he  had  be- 
friended made  his  money  subservient  to  their  own  vices, 
he  was  terribly  wrathy,  and  could  not  be  appeased  until 
a  more  worthy  object  was  placed  in  his  way. 


CHAPTER     XXVIII. 

"  Who  born  so  poor, 
Of  intellect  so  mean,  as  not  to  know 
What  seemed  the  best ;  and  knowing,  not  to  do  * 
As  not  to  know  what  God  and  conscience  bade, 
And  what  they  bade  not  able  to  obey  ?  "  —  Pollock. 

DURING  the  week  following  the  events  related  in  the 
last  chapter,  the  family  at  Lindenwood  were  startled  at 
midnight  by  a  loud  knocking  at  the  outer  door.  Mr. 
Stanley  soon  answered  the  summons,  and  found  a  coun- 
tryman standing  upon  the  steps,  with  a  cart-whip  in  hia 
hand,  the  butt  end  of  which  had  so  quickly  aroused  the 
sleeping  household. 

"  Is  Mr.  Stanley  at  home  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  I  am  he." 

"  Well,  there's  a  young  gal  at  our  house  that's  aa 
crazy  as  a  loon.  We  couldn't  find  out  all  day  yesterday 
who  she  was,  nor  where  she  came  from  ;  but  my  woman, 
by  dint  o'  coaxing  and  threatening,  persuaded  her  to  go 
to  bed  ;  and  then  she  looked  in  her  pockets  and  found  all 
her  things  were  marked  '  Edith  Stanley.'  In  her  pocket- 
book,  which  I  have  brought  along,"  passing  it  to  Mr. 
Stanley,  "  I  found  her  direction,  and  the  doctor  I  called 
to  her  last  night,  thinking  she'd  run  away  in  a  crazy  fit 
sent  me  for  you." 

Mrs.  Stanley  and  Emma  had  arisen  from  bed,  hastily 

29*  341 


342  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

thrown  on  their  wrappers,  and  were  standing  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs.  Mr.  Stanley  was  just  going  to  speak,  when 
his  wife  interrupted  him,  "  Let  us  go  at  once." 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  promptly  ;  "  but  I  must  '.inquire 
where  it  is." 

"  How  soon  can  you  be  ready  ?  "  asked  the  man. 

"  In  half  an  hour." 

"  Well,  then,  I'll  wait  and  go  with  you.  You  mightn't 
find  the  place  in  the  dark." 

Without  waiting  for  further  questions,  Mr.  Stanley, 
after  inviting  the  countryman  into  the  house,  proceeded 
at  once  to  call  the  coachman,  while  his  wife,  and  Emma, 
who  begged  to  accompany  her  mother,  hastily  prepared 
for  their  midnight  excursion.  In  little  more  than  half  an 
hour  they  were  on  their  way,  the  man  who  had  come  for 
them  riding  by  the  side  of  the  carriage,  Mrs.  Stanley 
having  left  with  Alice  the  charge  of  preparing  Nurse 
Carey  for  the  intelligence,  as  they  intended,  if  possible, 
to  bring  Edith  back  with  them  on  the  following  day. 
The  distance  to  Planesville  was  but  ten  miles  ;  but  they 
were  obliged  to  travel  so  slowly  in  the  dark,  and  the  lat- 
ter part  of  the  way,  for  nearly  two  miles,  over  a  new  and 
by-road,  that  it  was  four  o'clock  before  they  heard  the 
guide  who  was  just  in  advance  of  them,  say,  "  This  is 
the  house.  You  go  right  in  and  I  '11  put  up  your  horses 
Wife'll  be  expectin'  of  you." 

Longing,  yet  dreading  to  know  the  situation  of  the 
poor  girl,  Mr.  Stanley  hastily  assisted  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ter from  the  carriage ;  but  just  as  Emma  reached  the 
ground  a  dreadful  shriek  of  distress  from  the  small  house 
before  them,  caused  their  hearts  to  sink  with  sudden  ter- 


IN    DISGUISE.  •".  l.'J 

ror.  .Mrs.  Stanley  darted  forward.  There  was  a  bright 
light  in  the  lower  room,  and  they  could  see  at  a  glance 
what  was  going  on  within.  The  figure  of  some  person 
lay  extended  upon  the  bed,  and  a  man  was  standing  In-- 
fore her,  his  form  concealing  her  face,  trying  to  hoKi 
do\vn  her  arms.  A  young  woman,  holding  an  infant, 
her  countenance  expressive  of  the  utmost  alarm,  stood 
back  from  them.  Upon  the  approach  of  .Mrs.  Stanley, 
who  entered  first  and  announced  herself,  the  poor  woman 
burst  into  tears. 

The  physician  soon  recounted  the  state  in  which  he 
had  found  his  patient,  and  the  measures  he  had  adopted. 
He  said  she  was  suffering  from  a  sudden  and  violent  fit 
of  insanity,  produced,  perhaps,  in  part  by  the  high  fever 
under  which  she  was  laboring.  He  then  asked  if  there 
was  anything  which  could  have  tended  to  such  a  state. 

Mr.  Stanley  drew  him  into  the  neat  kitchen,  and  gave 
him  a  brief  account  of  her  history,  and  also  communica- 
ted the  fact  of  her  mother  having  been  partially  insane 
for  many  years,  owing  to  her  remorse  of  conscience,  but 
that,  since  the  confession  of  her  guilt,  she  had  appeared 
perfectly  rational. 

Doctor  Putnam  listened  with  interest,  and  then  said, 
"  It  may  be  the  agitation  of  mind  which  has  occasioned 
this;  but  I  feared  congestion  of  the  brain." 

The  question  of  her  being  carried  to  Lindenwood 
was  then  discussed,  the  doctor  inferring  from  her  violence 
that  it  would  not  be  safe,  but  that  she  ought  to  be  car- 
ried to  an  asylum  for  the  insane.  To  this  proposition, 
however,  Mr.  Stanley  would  not  for  one  moment  hearken, 
a*  least  not  until  they  had  tried  other  means  for  hei 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGKL 

restoration;  and,  as  there  were  no  accommodation  a 
where  they  were,  it  was  determined  to  return  home  with 
her  as  soon  as  it  was  light. 

In  the  meantime,  Mrs.  Stanley,  having  laid  aside 
her  bonnet,  had  calmly  approached  the  sufferer,  and, 
taking  a  cloth  wet  with  cool  water,  bathed  her  burning 
brow.  The  poor  girl  was  still  unconscious,  or  rather 
wandering ;  but  the  soft  voice  and  gentle  hand  of  her 
mother  seemed  to  soothe  her,  for  she  became  more  quiet, 
and  soon  fell  asleep,  for  the  first  time  through  the  night. 
Beckoning  the  'woman  into  the  small  entry,  Emma 
asked,  in  a  whisper,  how  she  came  there,  and  received 
the  following  account. 

"  Yesterday  morning,"  said  the  woman,  "  though  it 
seems  like  a  week,  I  had  just  dressed  my  baby,  and  was 
getting  her  to  sleep,  so  that  1  could  do  up  my  morning 
chores,  when  I  heard  a  low  knock  at  the  door.  I  called 
out,  softly, '  Come  in,'  for  baby  was  just  dropping  off, 
and  she,"  pointing  toward  the  room,  "  came  right  in. 
She  seemed  to  have  an  idea  that  somebody  was  after 
her;  and,  when  Joshua,  that's  my  husband,  who  went 
after  you,  happened  to  go  by  the  window,  she  t^ave  a 
dreadful  scream,  and  hid  behind  the  door.  1  was  scared 
enough  ;  but  I  didn't  dare  to  let  her  know  it,  for  fear 
she'd  hurt  the  baby,  and  so  I  told  her  she  was  safe, 
and  asked  who  she  was  afraid  of.  She  grew  calmer 
after  a  while,  and  asked  me  for  something  to  eat.  I  got 
her  a  bowl  of  milk  and  some  bread ;  but  she  never 
tasted  the  bread.  The  bowl  she  raised  to  her  mouth, 
and,  when  she  put  it  down,  she'd  drained  every  drop. 
Twas  the  fever  burning  then,  the  doctor  says.  After 


IN    DISGUISE.  3A5 

that,  she  begun  to  tell  that  she  was  trying  to  find  some- 
body I  couldn't  rightly  make  out  who  he  was,  or  where 
he  lived,  but  his  first  name  was  Alfred ;  and  she's  kept 
screaming  '  Alfred ! '  'most  all  night.  Whoever  he  is, 
the  poor  thing  loves  him;  and  she's  asked  him  a  hun- 
dred times  to  forgive  her,  and  said,  '  I  love  you  now, 
and  always  loved  you,  and  that's  the  reason  I  wont  ruin 
you.' 

"  After  a  while,  she  let  it  out  that  she  had  walked  al. 
night,  and  asked  if  she  might  lie  down  on  my  bed.     I 
put  on  clean  sheets,  with  my  baby  sleeping  on  my  arm, 
for  1  was  afraid  to  lay  it  down  a  minute,  the  poor  crea- 
ture's eyes  glared  so  wild.     As  soon  as  she  fell  asleep,  I 
went  out  to  the  barn,  and  called  in  Joshua,  and  told  him 
I  was  afraid  to  stay  with  her.     if  he  is  my  man,  I  imv:t 
say  he's  the  most  willingest  fellow  to  do  anything  I  ever 
saw.     He  come  right  in,  and,  excepting  a  little  while 
when  he  went  out  to  feed  the  cattle  and  milk,  he  didn't 
leave  the  house  until  he  started  for  you,  and  then  the 
doctor  was   here.     When   she  woke   up,  it  was  nearly 
noon,  and  then  she  was  raving  like  a  mad  creature ;  and 
Jo.shua  had  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  hold  her  hands, 
and  keep  her  from  injuring  herself.     I  was  just  getting 
ready  to  go  after  the  doctor,  and  carry  my  baby  with  me, 
though  its  more'n   a  mile,  when  one   of  our  neighbors 
rode  along  in    his  cart.     He  was  going   right   by  the 
doctor's,  and  he  said  he'd  stop  there.     I  wouldn't  have 
staid  alone  with  her  for  nothing.     The  doctor  had  gone 
oil'  three  mile  from  home,  and  never  got  here  till  dusk, 
and  all  that  time  she'd  talked  just  as  fast  as  she  could 
talk.     She'd  call  out, '  Father!  mother!'  and  then  burst 


346  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

out  a  crying,  Baying  she  hadn't  got  any  father  or  mother, 
or  any  body  else  to  love  her.  It  made  my  blood  run 
cold  to  hear  her  then,  for  she'd  kind  of  curse  herself  and 
her  mother,  when  she'd  just  said  she  hadn't  got  one,  and 
she  almost  cursed  her  Maker.  But  in  a  few  minutes 
that  would  all  be  over,  and  she'd  be  keeping  a  school. 
When  Dr.  Putnam  come,  he  said  we  must  get  her  into 
bed.  She'd  got  on  her  clothes  just  as  she  come  in,  only 
her  bonnet ;  and  so  Joshua  took  the  baby  into  the 
kitchen,  while  the  doctor  helped  me  put  my  best  night- 
gown on  her,  not  a  very  nice  one,  but  'twas  clean  ;  and 
a  hard  task  we  had  of  it  to  get  her  to  bed.  When  I 
took  her  clothes  to  hang  them  up,  I  happened  to  think 
perhaps  she'd  got  something  in  her  pocket  that  would 
tell  who  she  was ;  and  so  she  had.  Dr.  Putnam  said 
he'd  stay  here  while  Joshua  went  for  you." 

"And  have  you  held  your  babe  all  night?"  asked 
Emma,  looking  at  the  pale  countenance  of  the  kind 
woman. 

"  Oh,  yes,  miss !  There  wa'n't  any  place  handy  for  me 
to  lie  down,  and  then  I  couldn't  be  spared." 

All  this  time  Emma  and  her  companion  had  sat  to- 
gether on  the  low  steps  leading  to  the  attic;  but  at  a 
slight  noise  in  the  room,  they  both  started  up  and  entered. 
Edith  muttered  incoherently,  and  the  Doctor  shook  his 
head  as  he  placed  his  fingers  gently  on  her  pulse.  "  If  she 
is  to  be  carried  away  from  here,  it  must  be  done  at  once," 
he  said. 

But  for  an  hour  she  was  so  violent  that  they  found  it 
would  be  impossible  to  carry  her  in  the  small  carriage  in 
which  they  had  come.  Mr.  Stanley  therefore  ooncluded 


IN    DISGUISE.  347 

to  go  withoul  delay  to  Lindenwood  with  Emma,  and 
return  with  the  large  carriage,  and  a  driver,  so  that  he 
could  be  entirely  at  liberty  to  attend  to  her.  When  he 
mentioned  his  plan  to  the  Doctor,  he  suggested  an  im- 
provement, which  was,  that  Joshua  Goodwin  should 
drive  his  daughter  to  Queenstown,  while  he  remained 
with  his  wife,  as  he  should  be  obliged  to  leave  and  visit 
his  other  patients. 

This  was  decided  upon,  and  by  noon  Joshua  came 
back  with  the  double  carriage  into  which  Emma  had 
put  a  bed  and  pillows.  The  Doctor,  who  had  returned, 
gave  her  a  powerful  anodyne,  and  then  assisted  Mr.  Stan- 
ley to  place  her  in  the  carriage. 

Having  most  liberally  rewarded  their  good  host  and 
hostess  for  the  disinterested  kindness  they  had  shown 
to  the  poor  lunatic,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stanley,  with  their 
unconscious  charge,  drove  slowly  away  from  the  door ; 
but  finding  she  soon  fell  asleep,  Mr.  Stanley  called  to 
the  coachman  and  told  him,  when  they  were  off  the  by- 
road, to  drive  with  full  speed,  and  in  this  way  they 
leached  home  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon. 

Doctor  Jenks,  whom  Alice  had  summoned,  was  at 
hand,  to  assist  in  carrying  Edith  to  her  room,  from  which 
it  seemed  to  him  very  doubtful  whether  she  would  live 
to  come  out.  For  three  days  she  lay  in  a  stupor,  never 
but  once  having  any  return  of  her  violence,  and  that  was 
the  night  after  her  arrival.  Mrs.  Stanley,  Emma,  and 
Alice  were  unwearied  in  their  attentions  to  the  uncon- 
scious sufferer,  who,  pallid  and  ghastly,  looked  very  dif- 
ferent from  the  blooming,  brilliant  Edith  of  former  days 
As  she  lay  there,  so  nearly  resembling  death,  her  kind 


348  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

friends  offered  incessant  prayer  that  she  might  be  re- 
stored to  her  reason,  if  it  was  God's  will  she  should 
never  recover.  On  the  fourth  day  she  seemed  to  arouse 
from  her  long  sleep,  and  was  able  to  take  a  few  tea- 
spoonfuls  of  gruel.  Her  attendants  could  not  be  quite 
sure  whether  she  knew -them.  When  she  awoke  from 
eleep,  she  talked  very  fast  and  incoherently  for  a  few 
moments,  but  gradually  grew  more  quiet,  and  lay,  foi  -an 
hour  at  a  time,  with  her  eyes  closed,  only  opening  them 
when  she  was  addressed  by  name. 

One  day  she  was  much  more  delirious  than  usual. 
She  had  had  no  rest  through  the  night,  and  the  soothing 
powders  failed  to  produce  their  usual  effect.  She  kept 
calling  upon  Alfred  in  the  most  piteous  manner,  exclaim- 
ing :  "  If  you  do  leave  me,  I  shall  be  all  alone.  No  one 
but  you  left ;  Oh,  Alfred !  " 

"  Alfred  will  never,  never  leave  you,"  said  a  hoarse 
voice  close  by  her  side,  and  to  the  astonishment  of  all 
present,  Alfred  Huntington  stood  before  them.  He  had 
come  unexpectedly  to  the  Hall  to  pass  a  few  days,  but 
had  not  heard  of  Edith's  sickness,  until  he  entered  the 
house. 

Mrs.  Stanlej  feared  the  effect  of  the  excitement  if  she 
should  recognize  her  lover,  for  such  his  manner  stilJ 
proved  him  to  be.  But  though  for  an  instant  the  young 
girl  seemed  to  hold  her  breath,  as  if  listening  eagerly, 
she  soon  resumed  her  rapid  talk. 

Alfred  advanced  to  the  bed,  and,  in  a  low  whisper,  re- 
peated the  assurance  of  his  love,  and  that  he  would 
never  leave  her.  He  held  her  hand  in  his,  whiie  he 
eagerly  gazed  at  her,  to  see  if  she  recognized  him ;  but 


IN    DtSWUISE.  349 

though  he  was  rewarded  by  no  answering  glance,  yet  his 
very  presence  seemed  to  soothe  her.  Gently  as  a  mother 
deals  with  a  fretful  babe,  diJ  the  young  man  smooth  her 
ruffled  brow,  all  the  while  whispering  words  of  endear- 
ment, until  she  fell  into  a  quiet  sleep. 

When  good  Dr.  Jenks  noiselessly  entered  the  room,  he 
found  his  patient  had  passed  into  other  hands.  Alfred 
still  sat  with  one  hand  upon  her  forehead,  the  other 
tightly  grasped  in  hers,  while  the  tears  were  flowing  un- 
heeded down  his  manly  cheeks.  Alice  pointed  to 
the  bed,  at  the  same  time  motioning  him  to  be  quiet. 
After  this,  nothing  could  exceed  the  tenderness  of  the 
new  nurse.  From  his  hand,  Edith  never  refused  to  take 
medicine,  however  nauseous  it  might  be ;  his  loving  voice 
seemed  to  dispel  her  gloom,  his  hand  to  allay  her  distress, 
and  though  she  never  addressed  him  or  appeared  really 
conscious  of  his  presence  ;  yet  if  he  were  absent  from 
the  room,  she  was  restless  and  uneasy.  The  idea  that 
he  was  necessary  to  her  comfort  caused  a  thrill  of  rap- 
ture in  the  heart  of  the  young  man,  and  his  prayers  be- 
came more  earnest  in  her  behalf. 

Dr.  Jenks  began  to  be  seriously  alarmed  that  she  did 
not  rally,  and  told  Mrs.  Stanley  unless  there  was  soon  a 
change  for  the  better,  she  must  die.  Indeed,  he  fean-d 
«he  were  already  sinking.  This  announcement  caused 
her  friends  deep  sorrow;  all  but  Alfred  felt  that  she 
would  soon  leave  them  ;  but  as  their  hopes  sank,  his 
revived.  He  now  became  the  comforter.  With  an  eye 
midimmed  by  a  tear,  with  a  countenance  pale  but  calm, 
he  told  them  God  had  a  great  work  for  Edith  to  do,  that 
this  was  his  chosen  way  to  fit  her  for  it,  that  he  was  a 
30 


350  TTJ?;    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

God  vVno  loved  to  be  inquired  of  by  his  children,  and  he 
bogged  them  not  to  cease  their  supplications  in  her 
behalf. 

Edith  had  now  lain  for  I'.oars  unconscious  of  all 
around  her.  Save  the  constant  wetting  of  her  lips 
with  brandy  and  water,  no  nourishment  had  been  taken. 
The  family  gathered  around  her  bed,  and  knelt  for  prayer ; 
but  in  vain  did  Mr.  Stanley  try  to  raise  his  voice.  The 
idea  of  Edith  passing,  as  he  thought,  from  time  to  eter- 
nity, wholly  overcame  him. 

After  a  moment's  delay,  the  voice  of  Alfred  was  heard. 
Ho  seemed  already  assured  of  a  blessing.  He  entered 
at  once  into  the  holy  of  holies,  and  carried  his  hearers 
with  him  into  the  immediate  presence  of  God.  His  soul 
was  filled  with  assurance  of  God's  readiness  to  save  her 
for  whom  Christ  had  shed  his  precious  blood,  and  in  her 
behalf  he  consecrated  her  future  life  to  the  service  of  her 
Saviour. 

The  tardy  moments  roll  away,  as  all  stand  gazing 
upon  one  who  lies  as  if  already  in  the  embrace  of  death. 
Weeping  and  sobbing  are  heard  on  every  side ;  but 
Alfred  is  closely  watching  the  feeble  breath ;  a  short  gasp 
does  not  escape  his  attention.  He  again  wets  her  lips, 
then  places  his  fingers  upon  her  wrist.  He  notices  a 
slight  change.  With  a  motion  to  the  group  to  suppress 
their  sobs,  he  leans  forward  to  listen  to  her  breathing. 
He  looks  anxiously  up,  as  he  hears  a  carriage,  hoping  it 
is  the  Doctor. 

He  is  not  disappointed  ;  the  kind  physician  softly  en- 
ters. "  Is  she  gone"?  "  he  whispers. 

As  Mrs.  Stanley  shakes  her  head,  he  passes  silently  tc 


IN    DISGUISE.  3«5l 

the  side  of  her  bed;  he  places  his  hand  on  her  brow 
starts  back  and  gazes  around,  wipes  his  glasses,  and  re- 
places them.  His  countenance  changes  as  he  marks  her 
pulse  ;  a  smile,  yes,  a  smile  lights  up  his  features.  Al- 
fred understands  it,  and  unable  longer  to  contsrin  the 
feelings  of  hope  and  joy  which  fill  his  soul,  abruptly 
retires.  He  seeks  his  chamber  to  pour. out  his  heart  in 
praise  to  God,  tears  of  gratitude  stream  down  his  cheek?, 
and  he  renews  his  self-consecration  to  his  Saviour.  He 
returns  to  the  sick-room,  where  he  finds  Dr.  Jenks  has 
forced  through  the  closed  teeth  a  most  powerful  astrin- 
gent. His  manner  has  already  conveyed  hope.  All  art; 
silent.  He  has  motioned  them  to  be  seated  back  from 
the  bed,  and  sits  down  himself  to  await  the  result. 

Alfred  approaches,  softly  places  a  chair  by  her  side,  ami 
tries  to  quell  the  tumult  of  joy  which  is  swelling  his 
heart  almost  to  bursting.  He  gently  lifts  the  pale, 
emaciated  hand  from  the  counterpane,  and  presses  it 
to  his  lips.  Oh,  how  gladly  would  he  impart  some  of 
his  own  warm  life-blood  to  quicken  her  pulsations!  A 
gentle  perspiration  has  covered  her  brow,  and  the 
Doctor  calling  Mrs.  Stanley  from  the  room,  tells  her  the 
crisis  has  past,  and  he  now  hopes  his  patient  will  recover. 

*'  Oh  ! "  said  Marion,  bursting  into  tears,  "  it  is  in  an- 
swer to  Alfred's  fervent  prayer." 

And  \\ho  shall  say  that  it  was  not  so,  that  He,  with 
whom  are  ihe  issues  of  life  and  death,  did  not  grant  hei 
restoration  in  answer  to  his  importunate  supplications? 
For  more  than  an  hour  Edith  lay  in  a  sweet,  refreshing 
slumber.  All  had  left,  the  room,  with  the  exception  of 
Mrs.  Stanley  and  Alfred.  Days  of  anxiety,  and  'ji^'ib 


352  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

of  watching  seemed  powerless  to  fatigue  him.  He  now 
sat  looking  for  the  first  return  to  consciousness,  in  the. 
hope  that  she  would  recognize  him.  Marion  was  kneel- 
ing by  her  side,  her  face  concealed  in  the  bed-clothes.  At 
length  the  sufferer  feebly  moves,  and  heaves  a  deep  sigh. 
Alfred,  applies  the  sponge  to  her  lips,  and  she  slowly  un- 
closes her  eyes,  which  rest  upon  Mrs.  Stanley.  It  is  as 
they  hoped,  she  recognizes  her,  and  whispers,  "  Mother." 

Choking  back  her  tears,  the  thankful  friend  kisses  the 
pale  brow,  and  tries  to  articulate,  "  My  own  dear 
•laughter." 

Again  the  feeble  lips  move  tremulously,  —  she  bends 
forward  to  catch  the  words,  "  Forgive  poor  Edith." 

Marion  repeatedly  assures  her  that  all,  all  is  forgiven ; 
aD   forgotten,  save  the   blessed  thought  that  she  is  re 
stored  to  them. 

A  faint  smile  flickers  for  one  moment  around  her 
mouth,  and  she  again  falls  asleep.  With  eager  impa- 
tience Alfred  watches  her.  He  longs  once  more  to  hear 
her  voice,  and  to  have  her  speak  his  name.  Nor  does  he 
wait  in  vain.  She  again  opens  her  eyes,  and  fixes  them 
full  upon  him.  For  one  instant  she  gazes,  as  if  fearing 
*he  is  still  dreaming,  then  softly  whispers,  "  It  is  my 
Alfred." 

"  Yes,  my  darling  Edith,"  he  cries,  unable  longer  to 
contain  himself,  "  God  has  given  you  back  to  me  from 
the  dead.  You  are  mine  now,  all  mine,  love." 

A  beautiful  smile  of  trust  lit  up  the  pale  countenance 
of  the  invalid,  and  from  this  time  she  slowly  gained 
strength.  There  was  no  more  coldness,  no  reserve,  her 
proud  neart  was  humbled,  and  the  penitent  sat  meekly 


IN    DISGUISE.  353 

at  the  feet  of  her  Saviour.  As  sjie  had  opportunity,  she 
asked  pardon  of  Mr.  Stanley,  for  all  the  trouble  she  had 
<  aused  him  from  a  child,  and  begged  his  consent  still  to 
call  him  father. 

Toward  Alice  and  Uncle  Stephen  she  confessed  her- 
self to  have  indulged  wicked  thoughts  and  unkind  feel- 
ings, which  she  earnestly  implored  them  to  forgive. 

The  good  old  man,  who  could  hardly  realize  so  great 
a  change  in  her  character,  was  wholly  overcome,  and  re- 
tired to  his  room  to  weep  aloud. 

But  the  greatest  mark  of  a  thorough  change  was  in 
the  anxiety  she  expressed  for  her  own  mother,  who  was 
failing  rapidly.  The  family  had  deemed  it  advisable  not 
to  tell  Mrs.  Carey  how  very  sick  her  child  had  been  ;  but 
now  Edith  begged  to  be  allowed  to  see  her,  at  least  once, 
before  she  died  ;  and  one  day,  after  consulting  the  Doc- 
tor, Mrs.  Carey  was  brought  to  the  Hall,  when  Alfred 
gently  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  laid  her  on  the  bed  by 
her  sick  child.  All  present  were  struck  with  the  likeness 
between  them,  as  they  lay  in  a  close  embrace.  Nurse 
Carey  had  perfectly  recovered  her  reason.  Her  eye, 
which,  from  its  wildness,  had  given  an  unearthly  look  to 
hoi  whole  countenance,  was  now  tearful,  but  calm,  and 
Edith,  with  her  rich  tresses  confined  under  a  cap,  her 
bright  color  gone,  her  eye  and  lip  no  longer  scornful, 
both  in  feature  and  expression  resembled  those  of  her 
mother.  All  retired  during  that  first  interview  between 
them  as  mother  and  child,  and  which  would  probably 
be  their  last. 

It  was  not  until  the  sound  of  violent  weeping  in  the 
room  warned  her  that  too  much  excitement  might  be  fa« 

30* 


354  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

ial  to  them  both,  that  „  Mrs.  Stanley  hastily  entered 
Edith's  solemn  words  arrested  her  attention,  "  Dear 
mother,  look  at  me  ;  think  of  what  I  was,  the  very  chief 
of  sinners.  Even  you,  sinful  as  you  have  been,  can 
never  imagine  half  my  guilt.  But  God  has  had  mercy 
upon  me ;  Jesus  has  power  to  wash  out  guilt,  even  such 
as  mine,  and  will  save  you.  Oh,  don't  delay  !  Say  to 
him,  '  Dear  Lord,  here  I  am,  a  poor  sinner ;  but  I  trust 
in  thy  power  to  save.'  For  my  sake,  dear  mother,  do 
not  delay.  Oh,  if  you  could  only  know  the  sweet  peace 
which  filled  my  soul  when  I  threw  away  all  my  rebellious 
pride,  and  opened  my  heart  to  his  love  !  The  fountain 
is  inexhaustible.  God  is  ready  and  willing  to  save  you, 
too.  Dear  mother,  father  is  in  heaven,  and,  vile  and  sin- 
ful as  I  have  been,  I  hope  to  enter  there.  Will  you  refuse 
to  meet  us  in  that  world  ?  "  Here  the  poor  girl's  feel- 
ings entirely  exhausted  her,  and,  with  her  mother's  hand 
pressed  tightly  in  hers,  she  sank  back  upon  the  pillows. 

The  poor  mother  wept  and  sobbed  without  restraint, 
and  Mrs.  Stanley,  without  having  been  seen  by  them, 
stepped  back  and  called  Alfred  to  remove  her  to  the 
nursery.  Mrs:  Carey  was  never  carried  home,  but  died 
the  next  day,  with  a  trembling  hope  that  God  had  for- 
given her  sins.  Her  last  words  were  to  Alfred,  who  had 
spent  hours  at  her  bedside,  "  Tell  my  child  I  feel  myself 
to  be  a  great  sinner ;  but  I  trust  my  Saviour  has  forgiven 
me." 

The  death  of  Mrs.  Carey  affected  Alice  deeply,  as  well 
as  all  the  household,  who,  now  that  she  was  gone,  re- 
mambered  only  her  untiring  devotion  to  them  in  sickness, 
her  'ove  for  her  late  mistress,  and  her  strong  affection  foi 


IN    DISGUISE.  355 

J.ociis.  Alfred  was  called  upon  by  Edith  to  repeat  again 
and  again  ail  that  she  had  said,  and  the  tears  which  the\ 
together  dropped  to  her  memory,  were  a  new  tie  between 
them. 

When  Edith  was  able  to  sit  up  in  the  large  easy-chair 
which  Alice  had  sent  from  her  own  room  for  the  invalid, 
no  one  would  have  recognized  in  the  meek  and  humble 
Christian,  whose  eye  beamed  so  tenderly  upon  her  mother 
and  sisters,  the  once  proud  and  lofty  spirit,  who  expected 
all  to  bow  before  her.  To  her  family  she  had  never  look?d 
so  lovely  in  the  proudest  days  of  her  brilliant  beauty. 
Love  toward  her  Saviour  shone  in  her  countenance,  and 
animated  all  her  actions.  Even  the  servants  felt  and  ac- 
knowledged the  change.  To  every  one  she  had  confessed 
her  pride  and  rebellion,  and  to  every  one  she  had  recom- 
mended her  Saviour,  who  would  surely  forgive  them,  if 
sins  like  hers  could  be  pardoned. 

Alfred's  term  had  now  commenced,  and  he  announced 
his  intention  of  leaving  the  next  day.  Choosing  an  oppor- 
tunity when  Edith  was  alone,  he  sat  down  near  her.  No 
formal  engagement  existed  between  them.  Since  the  fivst 
:nipassioned  words  when  she  recovered  her  conscious- 
ness, he  had  never  told  his  love.  But  he  was  aware  she 
knew  his  heart,  and  that,  after  his  Maker,  she  occupied 
the  first  place  in  his  affections.  He  held  her  unresisting 
hand  in  his,  as  he  said,  "  Edith,  it  is  hard  for  me  to  leave 
you.  I  shall  look  back  to  the  past  vacation  as  the  hap- 
piest period  of  my  life." 

"  Yes,"  said  Edith,  tremulously,  "  we  shall  never  forget 
it" 

"  God  has  been  very  gracious  to  ns,"  continued  the 


356  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

young  man,  trying  to  repress  his  emotion,  "  and  we  will 
not  hesitate  to  devote  our  lives  to  his  service." 

"  No,"  was  the  firm,  but  whispered  response. 

"  It  will  be  a  hard  lot  for  you,  my  love,  to  have  your 
home  and  friends,  for  a  life  among  the  heathen."  Tie 
stopped,  and  leaned  eagerly  forward  to  catch  the  words 
which  were  trembling  upon  her  lips. 

With  one  long,  earnest  gaze  into  his  eye,  Edith  said, 
gently,  "  Where  thou  goest  I  will  go  ....  and  there  will 
I  be  buried."  Even  she,  with  her  warm,  impulsive  na- 
ture, was  not  prepared  for  the  burst  of  feeling  displayed, 
as  she  repeated  the  sacred  words.  He  covered  his  face, 
and  sobbed  convulsively. 

"  Alfred,  my  dearest  friend,"  she  said,  rising  and  stand- 
ing by  his  side  ;  "  do  not  weep,  or  let  me  weep  with  you. 
Henceforth  your  griefs  and  joys  are  mine." 

"  They  are  blissful  tears,  dearest,"  he  replied,  straining 
her  to  his  breast,  "  and  such  as  angels  might  envy.  Oh, 
my  Edith !  my  heart  swells  with  love  to  God  as  I  re- 
member how  graciously  he  has  answered  my  prayers  in 
your  behalf.  How  short-sighted  we  mortals  are.  When 
I  heard  of  the  change  which  had  come  over  your  pros- 
pects, I  mourned,  and  wept  bitter  tears.  1  little  knew 
this  was  his  chosen  way  to  fit  you  for  the  great  work 
before  you.  Dear  Edith,  let  us  never  forget  his  goodness, 
let  us  never  cease  to  trust  him." 

The  next  morning,  before  he  left,  Alfred  informed  his 
kind  benefactor  that  one  objection  to  bis  offering  himseli 
to  the  Board  of  Missions  was  obviated,  for  he  did  not 
intend  to  go  to  India  without  a  wife. 

Uncle  Stephen  rejoiced  with  him  in  his  happiness,  but 


IX    DISGUISE.  35? 

said  that  was  an  additional  reason  why  he  should  join  1he 
mission  under  his  care.  "  I  am  growing  old,  my  boy," 
said  he,  wiping  the  ever  ready  tear  from  his  eye,  "  and  il 
gives  rne  great  joy  to  send  your  father,  who  has  labored 
so  faithfully  for  years,  a  young  coadjutor,  to  share  his 
labors  and  cares.  Edith  will  be  a  good  daughter  to 
them." 

He  then  communicated  to  Alfred  the  fact  that  in  his 
will  he  had  made  provision  for  the  mission,  arid  that 
he  wished  them  to  enlarge  operations,  especially  in  the 
school  for  native  taachers.  "  Tell  Edith,"  he  contin- 
ued, "  that  there  is  a  fund  from  which  you  can  draw  to 
provide  her  a  suitable  outfit,  and  may  God's  blessing  go 
with  you  to  the  end  of  life."  The  good  old  man  turned 
hastily  away,  and  locked  himself  up  in  his  own  room. 

It  occasioned  no  surprise  to  the  family  group  assembled 
in  Edith's  chamber  for  morning  prayer,  when  Mr.  Hunt- 
ington  announced  his  and  Edith's  intention  of  going  to 
spend  their  lives  in  India,  though  there  were  many  tears 
shed  at  the  thought  of  the  long  separation. 

Edith  alone  was  calm.  With  a  holy  light  in  her  eye, 
and  an  elevation  of  soul  expressed  in  every  feature  of  her 
pale  countenance,  she  pointed  upward  as  she  said,  "  We 

shall  meet  there." 

****** 

Spring  had  come  again  with  its  swelling  buds,  its  tiny 
violets,  peeping  up  from  their  winter  bed,  its  balmy  air, 
and  refreshing  showers  ;  but  its  delightful  breezes  brought 
no  strength  to  Mrs.  Hayden,  who  was  rapidly  approach- 
ing the  end  of  life. 

For  a  few  weeks  Alice  had   spent  a  part  of  every  day 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGHL 


in  company  with  her  sick  friend.  Dear  little  Minnie,  in 
happy  unconsciousness  that  her  beloved  mother  was  fast 
passing  away  from  her  sight,  seemed  never  so  gay.  She 
found  bright  dandelions,  and  pleased  herself  vastly  with 
twining  them  in  her  mother's  hair.  "  Mamma  look 
pretty  !  Mamma  do  look  pretty  !  "  she  exclaimed,  danc- 
ing up  and  down  in  her  joy. 

Though  Mrs.  Hayden  perfectly  realized  her  situation, 
yet  to  her  there  was  nothing  of  gloom  in  the  idea  of 
death.  It  only  seemed  to  her  the  "  road  which  man  must 
pass  to  God." 

With  Dexter  she  talked  earnestly  with  regard  to  his 
future  coarse,  and  that  of  his  sister.  She  told  them  if 
Nurse  Green  was  obliged  to  leave,  God  would  provide 
them  a  home.  His  promise  to  be  a  father  to  the  father- 
less would  never  fail.  She  also  spoke  long  and  tenderly 
of  his  father,  and  left  many  messages  for  him. 

Though  well  aware  that  she  could  not  long  survive, 
yet  Alice  was  much  shocked,  early  one  bright  morning 
about  the  middle  of  April,  to  receive  the  intelligence 
that  the  sufferer  had  gone  to  her  rest.  But  upon  Dex- 
ter it  came  like  a  thunderbolt,  and  struck  him  to  the 
earth.  He  had  listened  calmly  when  his  mother  talked 
with  him,  controlling  his  feelings  that  he  might  not 
excite  her  ;  but  his  heart  whispered,  "  she  will  not  yet 
leave  you,"  and  he  listened  to  the  voice,  and  hopec 
against  hope. 

Alice  and  her  husband  consulted  earnestly  what  should 
be  done  with  the  children,  and  hoped  to  take  Minnie  for 
their  own  ;  but  when  she  mentioned  to  Dexter  her  moth- 
er's wish  to  have  them  leave  the  cottage,  for  the  present, 


IN    DISGUISE.  359 

and  come  to  Lindenwood,  lie  was  so  distressed  that  she 
urged  it  no  farther,  but  contented  herself  with  providing 
for  them,  while  her  husband  made  arrangements  for  the 
funeral. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

"Hark!  to  the  hurried  question  of  Despair: 
'  Where  is  my  wife  ?  '  an  echo  answers,  '  where  ? ' " 

Byron. 

NEAR  the  close  of  a  calm,  pleasant  afternoon  in  spring, 
when  all  nature  was  bursting  into  life  and  loveliness,  a 
man  jumped  from  the  cars  at  a  station  about  three  miles 
below  Queenstown.  He  was  rather  above  the  usual 
size,  of  athletic  frame,  and  an  open,  good-humored  cast 
of  countenance.  He  walked  quickly  along  the  side  of 
the  road  leading  directly  to  the  next  town,  and  there  was 
a  lightness  and  elasticity  in  his  step,  a  freedom  in  his  air 
and  manner,  which  showed  plainly  that  he  was  glad  to 
escape  the  confinement  of  a  long  day's  ride  in  the  cars 
for  the  free  air  and  the  exercise  of  his  limbs ;  and  also 
that  he  looked  forward  with  pleasure  to  the  end  of  the 
journey.  But,  if  observed  more  critically,  as  one  would 
hardly  be  able  to  do  while  he  walked  at  so  rapid  a  pace, 
an  occasional  contraction  of  the  brow  could  be  discov- 
ed,  and  a  close  shutting  of  the  lips,  which  indicated  some 
solicitude  or  anxiety,  mingled  with  his  earnest  anticipa- 
tions of  pleasure. 

This  feeling,  however,  he  tried  to  shake  off',  and  began 
whistling  a  merry  tune  ;  but  as  that  did  not  seem  quite 
in  accordance  with  his  feelings,  he  commenced  talking  to 
himself.  "  Let  me  see,"  he  soliloquized,  looking  at  the 

860 


THE    liOI'SElIOLD    -VNGEL    IN    DISGUISE.  36.1 

sun  to  ascertain  the  length  of  time  before  dark,  "  it  will 
take  me  about  half  an  hour  to  get  there  at  the  rate  I'm 
going  now  ; "  and  he  slackened  his  pace,  though  reluct- 
antly. "  I  should  rather  wait  until  there  would  be  no 
danger  of  being  recognized.  I  want  to  go  right  home 
and  see  my  family.  1  wonder  if  wife  expects  me,"  and, 
Unconsciously,  he  again  quickened  his  steps.  "  I  suppose 
Dexter  has  grown  a  good  deal  in  a  year,  and  so,  too,  has 
Minnie/'  The  man  smiled,  as  the  vision  of  a  pair  of 
aughing  blue  eyes,  peeping  out  from  a  shower  of  sunny 
curls  danced  before  him. 

"  She'll  be  shy  at  first,  and  no  wonder,"  he  added, 
rather  sadly  ;  "  but  I'll  soon  make  friends  with  her.  She's 
too  young  to  take  my  —  well,  any  trouble  long  to  heart. 
But  wife,  oh,  dear !  I  do  wish  1  could  get  such  fancies 
out  of  my  head.  I  suppose  it's  just  because  she  took  on 
so  dreadfully  when  I  was  carried  off;  and  I  never  can 
get  that  last  look  of  hers  out  of  my  mind.  It  seemed  to 
say.  '  Oh,  Timothy !  I've  borne  and  borne  with  your 
abuse,  and  loved  you  through  it  all ;  but  now  you've 
killed  me.'  Pshaw!  I  never  can  think  of  it  without  cry- 
ing;'' and  he  dashed  away  a  tear,  and  almost  started 
into  a  run  to  rid  himself  of  the  unpleasant  remembrance. 
"'Taint  likely  but  what  she's  got  over  it  long  ago,  and 
when  I've  seen  her  and  convinced  her  that  I  mean  to  make 
a  man  yet,  and  that  she  shall  be  as  well  off  as  ever  she 
was,  and  that  Dexter  shall  have  an  education,  I'll  venture 
this  new  suit  of  clothes  against  those  parti-colored  things 
I've  had  to  wear  a  year,  that  she'll  be  as  bright  as  a  but- 
ton. She  was  nlways  a  forgiving  creature.  Sometimes, 
I've  thought  if  she'd  been  huffy  or  cross,  I  shouldn't  have 

31 


362  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

dared  to  carry  on  so.  But  'tisn't  no  use  to  think  of  thai 
now.  Let  bygones  be  bygones.  I'll  show  Queen.stou  11 
people  that  I  mean  to  make  somebody  yet,  notwith- 
standing  .Let's  see  now.  'Twas  in  September  1 

had  that  letter  from  wife.  I've  always  wondered  how 
she  happened  to  write  just  that  one,  no  more,  no  less  , 
and  I've  always  thought  'twas  such  a  queer  one  too. 
Not  a  syllable  of  grumbling  or  complaint  in  it,  nor  say- 
ing that  I'd  brought  disgrace  on  the  family;  no,  nothing 
of  that  sort.  I  suppose  she  thought  I'd  had  leisure 
enough  when  I  was  locked  up  in  my  cell  nights  to  think 
o'  that.  Ha'n't  I,  though?"  he  exclaimed,  impatiently 
shaking  his  shoulders,  as  if  he'd  have  no  more  such 
thoughts.  "  It  always  seemed  as  if  she  thought  she  was 
making  a  will.  Well,  I  suppose  'twa'n't  very  amusing 
or  cheering  work  for  one  brought  up  as  she'd  been  to  sit 
down  and  write  to  a  husband  who  was  in  the  state 
prison  ;  and,  if  any  body  had  hinted  such  an  idea  to  me 
the  day  I  was  married,  I'd  ha  —  well,  I  can't  say  what  I 
wouldn't  have  done.  Heigh  ho !  'tis  strange  how  one 
thing  led  on  to  another." 

Then  again  referring  to  the  letter,  "  She  told  all  about 
Dexter,  and  what  a  noble  boy  he  was,  and  how  every 
day,  and  every  hour  in  the  day,  his  looks  reminded  her 
of  me,  and  how  well  he  got  on  in  his  schooling.  He'll 
make  a  man  yet,  that  boy  will.  Then  Minnie  too !  Oh, 
how  she  did  set  Minnie  out,  with  her  funny  ways  !  She 
always  was  a  cunning  little  thing ;  and  then  she  prays 
for  her  papa,  and  asks  God  to  bring  dear  papa  back. 
'Tis  astonishing  how  much  comfort  sorrje  people  do  take 
in  praying  Now,  though  I  know  it's  all  humbug,  y^  1 


IN    DISGUISE.  ob'3 

»hall  let  wife  go  on  just  as  she's  a  mind  to.  If  site 
wants  to  think  there's  a  God,  and  to  teach  the  children 
to  pray,  and  to  go  to  meeting,  I  shall  let  her.  There's 
no  harm  in  it,  if  it  gives  them  pleasure.  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  1  myself  went  to  meeting  sometimes  with 
them.  It'*  kind  o'  respectable  to  see  a  family  going 
along  together,  wife  and  I,  and  Dexter  leading  Minnie ; 
hut  I  know  better  than  to  believe  such  things." 

His  soliloquy  was  brought  to  a  sudden  termination 
by  seeing  that  he  had  reached  the  outskirts  of  the  town, 
and  the  sun  was  still  half  an  hour  high.  He  stopped 
short,  and  hesitated.  There  was  an  almost  irresistible 
impulse  to  proceed  to  the  end  of  his  journey,  opposed 
by  a  reluctance  to  go  through  the  streets  until  it  were 
too  late  for  him  to  be  recognized  by  any  of  his  old 
acquaintances ;  but  his  anxiety  to  be  at  home  prevailed, 
and  he  accelerated  his  speed  to  make  up  for  his  mo- 
mentary delay.  His  face  \vas  somewhat  flushed  from 
his  exercise ;  and  now  his  breast  began  to  heave  with 
emotion,  as  he  thought,  "  In  a  few  moments  more,  I 
shall  have  my  dear  wife  and  children  in  my  arms.  1 
was  a  fool  ever  to  doubt  she'd  forgive  me.  1  know  she 
will  when  she  sees  me  ;"  and  he  folded  his  arms  upon 
his  bosom,  as  if  they  already  encircled  the  loved  ones. 
He  hurries  on  ;  every  object  now  is  familiar.  There  is 
Moses  Pond,  going  for  his  father's  cows.  The  boy's 
merry  whistle  rather  jars  upon  his  excited  feelings,  and 
he  turns  to  the  other  side  of  the  road,  where  Widow 
Morse  is  picking  up  chips  by  the  wood-pile  to  get  her 
tea.  The  old  lady  looks  up  as  he  passes,  gazes  at  him 
through  the  wide  frill  of  her  cap,  then  starts  to  her  feet, 


#64  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

letting  fall  tier  apronful  of  splinters,  and  almost  screams 
out,  "  Goodness  me !  as  true  as  I'm  alive,  there's  Timo 
thy  Hayden  come  home  from  prison.  Oh,  dear!  oh, 
dear  !  "  and,  forgetting  her  errand  to  the  wood-pi'e,  she 
hurries  into  the  house  to  communicate  the  intelligence. 

"  That's  a  pretty  way  to  welcome  a  feller,  I  must 
say;"  and  Mr.  Hayden,  much  annoyed  at  the  curiosity 
with  which  he  saw  he  should  be  regarded,  still  hastened 
his  steps.  He  is  now  but  about  three  quarters  of  a  mile 
from  home.  The  road  is  straight  for  nearly  the  whole 
distance.  On  the  right,  he  perceives  Linden  wood  Hall, 
then,  farther  on,  the  spires  of  the  churches.  He  tries  to 
distinguish  the  low-roofed  house  where  he  is  going ;  but 
no,  he  cannot  see  it  yet ;  the  higher  buildings  conceal  it. 
But,  at  the  distance  of  a  few  hundred  rods,  he  espies  a 
carriage  standing  before  a  gate,  with  a  number  of  persons 
about  it. 

"  There's  a  funeral,  I  guess,"  he  said,  carelessly,  fixing 
his  eyes  upon  the  spot  "  Yes,  that's  the  hearse,  and 
two  carriages  behind  it.  I  wonder  who's  dead.  I  reckon 
it's  nobody  that  I  know."  He  could  now  see  over  the 
stone  wall  into  the  graveyard,  and  unconsciously  walked 
\  little  slower  to  witness  what  was  going  on. 

Just  as  he  was  opposite,  the  sexton  with  three  other 
men  were  lowering  the  coffin  into  the  damp  grave.  There 
tvas  an  air  of  deep  solemnity  about  the  whole  company 
(for  many  had  joined  the  procession  on  foot)  which  filled 
his  mind  with  awe.  He  felt  he  was  in  the  presence  of 
death  ;  and,  without  knowing  it,  the  traveller  approached, 
and  leaned  upon  the  top  of  the  stone  wall.  A  young 
}ady  was  standing  near  the  open  grave,  supported  by  a 


IN    DISGUISE.  365 

tail,  fine-looking  man.  She  was  weeping  bitterly ;  but, 
as  she  took  her  handkerchief  from  her  face  for  one  last 
look  into  the  final  resting-place  of  the  departed,  he 
noticed  that  she  was  a  stranger  to  him,  but  surpassingly 
beautiful.  Back  of  them,  or  rather  at  the  side,  stood 
quite  a  family  of  mourners,  though  none  of  them  were 
dressed  in  black. 

An  old  gentleman  with  glasses  was  leaning  for  support 
upon  the  arrn  of  a  man,  perhaps  his  son.  His  face  was 
turned  in  the  opposite  direction.  Just  at  that  moment, 
when  the  traveller  had  taken  a  step  forward  to  proceed 
on  his  way.  the  tall  gentleman  who  was  with  the  lady 
iifted  a  child  in  his  arms,  and  he.ld  her  over,  so  that  she 
could  look  into  the  grave.  She  gazed  an  instant,  and 
then  turned  her  face  away,  and  clung  weeping  to  his 
neck. 

What  can  it  be  which  has  so  suddenly  palsied  the 
limbs  of  the  traveller,  which  were  but  a  moment  before 
.so  full  of  life  and  activity  ?  What  makes  the  blood  so- 
quickly  recede  from  his  heart,  blanching  his  face  with 
sudden  terror  ?  He  staggers  and  reels  against  the  cold 
stones  for  support.  His  whole  sense  seems  to  be  con- 
centrated in  his  desire  to  see.  The  lifeless  body  is  left 
with  its  kindred  dust;  the  procession  begins  to  move 
away ;  the  sexton  stands  with  his  shovel  in  his  hand, 
only  waiting  for  them  to  pass  before  he  begins  his  solemn 
work  of  giving  earth  to  earth,  and  dust  to  dust.  He 
sees  it  all  at  a  glance.  Now  they  approach  the  gate. 
Entirely  forgetful  of  his  wish  to  be  nn noticed,  he  presses 
on.  He  must  see  for  himself.  He  trios  to  recall  \\i» 
31' 


3b6 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 


scattered  senses,  and   to  clear  his  eyes  from  the  blui 
which  has  gathered  over  them. 

First  in  the  procession  walks  a  boy,  tall  and  manly 
leading  the  child  whose  countenance  so  alarmed  him. 
The  boy's  face  is  entirely  hidden,  and  he  tries  to  think 
him  too  large  to  be  the  one  he  had  for  an  instant  feared  • 
but  he  is  in  deep  affliction,  and  proves  himself  so  utterly 
incapable  of  taking  care  of  the  child  that  the  lady 
behind  takes  her  from  him,  while  her  companion  tenderly 
grasps  him  by  the  hand. 

"  It  cannot  be,"  exclaimed  the  man,  in  a  husky  voice, 
for  the  first  time  drawing  a  long  breath.  "  How  fright- 
ened I  was !  No,  that  -would  be  too  cruel.  I'll  hurry 
on."  But  still  he  lingered.  He  would  like  to  see  who 
was  going  to  get  into  the  carriage.  Ah !  now  he's 
entirely  relieved.  He  recognizes  Squire  Stanley  and  the 
old  India  uncle  who  lives  with  him.  He  wonders  which 
of  the  family  it  is,  and  why  none  but  the  children  are 
dressed  in  mourning,  though  they  all  look  sad  enough. 
They  are  coming  through  the  gate.  He  stands  back  to 
let  them  pass.  Suddenly  the  little  girl  springs  from  her 
companion,  and  clings  to  the  boy.  "  Oh,  brother  Dex- 
ter!"  she  cries,  "don't*  flon't  leave  poor  sick  mamma 
here  J  " 

The  boy  strains  her  to  his  breast,  and  sobs  aloud ;  the 
gentleman  gently  separates  them,  and  lifts  them  into  the 
carriage  ;  the  young  lady  steps  in,  and  he  follows.  Mr. 
Stanley  and  his  family  occupy  the  other  carriage.  The 
coachmen  shut  the  doors,  and  drive  away ;  the  hearse, 
with  it.?  bony  horse,  is  still  tied  to  the  gate,  waiting  for 
the  oexiton  ;  the  procession  moves  out  and  passes  on 


IN    DISGl'ISK.  o!>7 

out  still  the  man  stands  as  if  turned  to.  stone  An 
arrow  has  pierced  his  heart,  and  sent  by  whom  ?  Ah  ! 
in  that  moment  of  indescribable  agony,  when  sorrow 
and  remorse  qui<  kly  .succeed  each  other,  and  struggle  for 
mastery  in  his  breast,  he  doubts  no  longer.  He  knc'.es 
there  is  a  God  in  heaven. 

The  sound  of  the  earth  rattling  upon  the  coffin  can  be 
distinctly  heard  ;  he  grasps  the  post  by  the  side  of  the 
gate,  and  gazes  wilh  terror  at  the  man  who  is  so  indiffer- 
ently covering  from  his  sight  the  wife  of  his  bosom.  The 
moments  pass  on,  the  grave  is  filled,  the  green  sods_  re- 
placed, and,  with  a  few  blows  of  the  shovel  to  press  them 
firmly  to  the  earth,  the  sexton  gathers  up  the  ropes,  and, 
with  a  look  behind  to  see  that  nothing  is  left,  walks  away. 

The  poor,  broken-hearted  man,  whose  high  hopes  are 
so  suddenly  crushed,  creeps  back  a  few  paces,  and  sits 
down  close  to  the  wall.  The  sexton,  without  noticing 
the  intruder,  carefully  closes  the  gate,  puts  the  ropes  in  a 
box  in  front  of  the  hearse,  takes  the  shovel  between  his 
knees,  gathers  up  his  reins,  and  rattles  away  at  a  rapid 
pace. 

Lower  and  lower  sinks  the  head  of  the  bowed  man. 
deeper  and  deeper  are  his  heavy  sighs  ;  hia  bosom  heavs 
convulsively,  his  eyeballs  glare  and  burn  ;  but  no  refresh- 
ing tears  come  to  moisten  them,  no  soothing  relied  ion 
tends  to  calm  his  woe.  No,  all  is  black,  impenetrable 
darkness.  When  the  sound  of  the  hearse  wheels  has 
entirely  ceased,  when  it.  hns  gone  altogether  from  sight, 
the  poor  man,  whose  step  so  lately  was  vigorous  with 
life,  crawls  as  if  the  weight  of  years  had  suddenly  fallen 
upon  him,  on  toward  the  gate.  With  trembling  hands 


368  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEI, 

he  lifts  the  latch,  mechanically  closes  it  after  him,  and  he 
is  alone  with  the  dead.  With  unsteady  steps  he  wends 
his  way  on,  on  until  he  reaches  the  mound  where  lir 
buried  all  his  hopes  of  happiness.  Yes,  he  forgets  even. 
the  existence  of  his  high-spirited  boy,  and  his  winning 
ittle  Minnie.  He  only  knows  that  his  own  dear  wife 
lies  buried  deep,  deep  in  the  ground,  where  he  never 
more  shall  see  her,  never  more  hear  her  voice  say,  "  I  for- 
give you."  She  from  whom  for  a  long,  weary  year,  he 
has  been  separated,  but  with  whose  love  all  his  future  had 
been  inseparably  blended. 

And  now  it's  all  over,  and,  with  a  low,  despairing  cry, 
"  Oh  God,  ifs  too  late  ! ''  he  throws  himself  upon  her 
grave. 

After  a  few  moments,  with  a  loud  shout  he  starts  to 
his  feet.  He  will  not  give  her  up.  It.  may  be  that  she 
still  lives.  An  indescribable  yearning  for  one  more  look 
at  her  fair  countenance,  an  irrepressible  longing  to  hold 
her  in  one  more  embrace,  even  in  death,  almost  maddens 
him.  With  his  hands  he  begins  to  tear  away  the  heart- 
less clods  which  hide  her  from  his  view  ;  but,  with  a  sud- 
den thought  of  her  as  he  saw  her  with  that  last  beseech- 
ing, imploring  look,  "  I've  loved  you ;  but  you've  killed 
me,"  he  fell  senseless  to  the  ground. 

The  next  morning,  when  Moses  Pond  went  with  his 
cows  to  pasture,  he  was  startled  to  see  the  figure  of  a 
man,  whose  hat  had  rolled  to  a  short  distance,  lying  ex- 
tended upon  the  grave.  He  knew  very  well  who  was 
buried  there,  and  with  a  light  bound  he  jumped  over  the 
wall,  without  waiting  to  go  around  by  the  gate,  and  cau« 
tiously  approached  the  spot.  As  he  drew  nearer,  he  sud 


IN    DISGU1SK. 


denly  started,  leaped  the  wall  again,  and  fled  for  home. 
He  had  recognized  the  husband  of  the  deceased,  and 
supposed  him  dead.  In  a  very  short  time  he  conducted 
his  father  and  neighbors  to  the  place,  and  hailing  a  mar- 
ket-man going  to  the  village,  they  prevailed  upon  him  to 
assist  in  getting  the  insensible  man  into  his  long  wagon> 
and  to  carry  him  to  his  desolate  dwelling.  Home  it  was 
not,  for  she  who  had  made  it  such  was  in  her  grave. 


CHAPTER     XXX. 

"Out  of  the  mouth  of  babes  and  sucklings  thou  hast  perfected  praise." 

David. 

UPON  leaving  the  cemetery  the  night  previous,  Minnie 
sobbed  so  violently,  and  plead  so  touch! ugly,  to  be  car- 
ried back  "  to  stay  with  dear  mamma,"  that  Alice  Syd- 
ney wished  to  take  the  children  to  Lindcnwood  for  the 
night;  but  Dexter  respectfully  but  firmly  declined.  The 
poor  boy  had  wept  until  the  fountain  of  his  grief  was 
exhausted,  and  his  head  ached  so  violently  that  he  felt 
wholly  unequal  to  the  effort  which  would  be  necessary  if 
he  accepted  her  kind  invitation.  He  desired  to  be  alone, 
and  think  of  his  mother's  last  words.  He  had  been  left 
sole  protector  of  his  sister,  and  he  wished  to  form  some 
plans  for  her  and  himself.  The  good  nurse,  who  had 
been  so  unwearied  in  her  care  of  his  sick  mother,  would 
now,  he  supposed,  be  obliged  to  leave,  and  there  was  no 
time  for  him  to  lose  in  useless  repining.  During  the  long 
year  which  had  passed  since  the  dreadful  blow  had  fallen 
upon  them,  from  which  his  mother  had  never  recovered, 
not  one  word  of  intelligence  had  been  received  from  his 
father.  In  the  free  conversations  he  had  held  with  his 
mother  near  the  close  of  her  life,  she  Ivul  expressed  doubt 
whether  he  still  lived  ;  and,  even  if  he  did,  whether  he 
would  return  to  his  family.  She  thought  he  might  be 
prevented,  by  shame,  from  coming  back  to  his  native  vil- 
lage What,  then,  could  he  do  with  the  sweet  child  ? 

870 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANUKL     IN    DISGUISE.  O?l 

All  seemed  dark  and  drear  beiore  him.  But  soon  his 
hopes  revived.  His  confidence  returned.  "  Mother  often 
repeated  to  us  God's  promise  to  be  a  father  to  the  father- 
less, and  I  will  trust  him." 

A  multitude  of  such  thoughts  passed  through  hia 
mind,  as  they  drove  toward  the  house  which  had  been 
their  home,  and  where  the  kind  nurse  awaited  them. 
Alice  had  been  talking  in  a  cheerful  voice  to  Minnie,  and 
had  succeeded  in  diverting  her  grief. 

Happy  childhood  !  The  waves  of  sorrow  break  and 
dash  over  thee,  but  the  receding  billow  flows  gently  back 
to  the  sea,  and  thou  art  soon  shouting  as  entirely  forget- 
ful of  thy  grief,  as  the  next  wave  which  comes  leaping, 
foaming,  sparkling  and  breaking  upon  the  shore  ! 

Dexter  ga/ed  upon  his  little  sister  as  Mr.  Sydney  lifted 
her  from  the  carriage,  and  asked  himself,  "  Can  1  ever 
again  be  happy  ?  Can  I  ever  forget  ?  "  Though  but 
twelve  years  of  age,  yet  in  maturity  of  character  he  was 
much  older.  For  a  long  time  he  had  been  the  confidant 
and  comforter  of  his  mother.  He  often  wondered  at  the 
conduct,  of  hi.s  companions,  who  were  irritated  and  an- 
noyed at  what  appeared  to  him  the  veriest  trifles;  but 
was  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  they  had  never  known 
real  trouble. 

On  entering  the  room,  rendered  desolate  by  the  re- 
moval of  the  sacred  remains  cf  his  beloved  mother,  Dex- 
ter was  so  much  overcome  with  grief,  that  he  was  obliged 
to  follow  the  oft-repeated  advice  of  Nurse  (Jreen,  and 
betake  himself  to  bed.  She  soon  carried  him  a  cup  of 
warm  tea,  and,  fatigued  by  over-waiching  and  excite- 
ment, he  fell  into  the  sound  sleep  of  childhood,  little 


372  1HE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

dreaming  who  was  sleeping  an  unconscious  vigil  at  his 
mother's  grave.  Minnie  snugly  nestled  herself  to  his 
side,  and  thus  the  sweet  children  lay. 

The  next  mornin'g  Dexter  was  suddenly  awakened  by 
the  heavy,  rattling  sound  of  a  wagon,  which  stopped  di- 
rectly in  front  of  the  cottage.  He  started  quickly  out  of 
bed,  for  a  moment  forgetting  his  dreadful  loss.-,  and  sur- 
prised that  he  had  so  overslept.  But  soon  the  uread  real- 
ity burst  upon  him,  and,  putting  his  hand  to  his  head,  he 
was  just  about  to  resume  his  place  by  the  side  of  his  sis- 
ter, that  he  might  weep  with  her,  when  a  loud  knock  was 
heard  at  the  door. 

Nurse  had  risen  an  hour  earlier,  and  was  no',y  in  the 
small  shed,  preparing  their  morning  repast.  She  nastened 
to  see  who  this  unseasonable  visitor  could  be.  It  was 
Farmer  Pond,  flurried  and  anxious,  and  behind  hi?-"  a  long 
cart,  the  high  sides  of  which  prevented  her  from  seeing 
what  it  contained. 

"  Good  morning,  Nurse  Green,"  said  Mr.  Pond. 

"  Good  morning,"  was  the  reply.  "  Anybody  sick  at 
your  house  ?  " 

"  Why  no,  not  exactly  ;  but  I've  got  somebody  in  this 
'ere  wagon  needs  attention.  I  found  him  lying  on  the 
newly-made  grave  of  his  wife.  How  the  poor  fellow 
came  there  I  can't  imagine.  I  didn't  know  he  was  out 
of  prison  ;  but  he  seems  now  entirely  unconscious.  He 
hasn't  moved  a  hair  since  we  put  him  into  the  wagon." 

The  good  woman  stood  so  amazed  at  the  announce- 
ment, that  she  had  not  yet  spoken  ;  but  when  he  added, 
"  We  better  get  him  into  bed  as  soon  as  we  can,  and 
have  the  doctor  to  him,"  she  was  all  ready  to  do  her  part. 


IN    DISGUISE.  373 

fhe  market-man  descended  from  his  box,  and,  with  the 
lelp  of  the  farmer,  they  gently  lifted  poor  Hayden  from 
the  wagon,  and  laid  him  into  bed,  when  Mr.  Pond  started 
off  in  haste  for  the  doctor.* 

The  intelligence,  which  quickly  spread  through  the 
village,  was  conveyed  to  Lindenwood  by  the  boy  who 
carried  the  morning  papers.  Clarence  offered  to  accom- 
pany his  wife  at  once  to  the  cottage,  and  to  offer  any 
assistance  which  might  be  necessary.  When  they  ar- 
rived, they  witnessed  an  affecting  scene.  Dr.  Jenks,  who 
had  promptly  answered  the  summons,  was  taking  blood 
from  the  arm  of  his  unconscious  patient,  while  Dexter 
knelt  on  the  bed,  applying  the  strongest  stimulants.  Min- 
nie was  seated  in  her  little  chair,  looking  from  one  to 
another  in  speechless  wonder.  Nurse  Green  held  the 
bowl  in  one  hand  to  receive  the  blood,  while  with  the 
other  she  held  the  bandages  for  the  doctor  to  swathe  the 
arm.  The  sister  of  Mrs.  Hayden,  who  was  there  with 
her  babe  in  her  arms,  stood  back  from  the  bed,  and  gazed 
with  a  tearful  interest  at  the  group.  She  had  cherished 
very  hard  feelings  toward  her  brother-in-law  for  bringing 
Buch  trouble  upon  his  family,  and  breaking  the  loving 
heart  of  his  wife  ;  but  her  resentment  had  all  passed 
away  since  she  had  seen  him  lying  there  in  the  image  of 
death,  and  had  heard  the  affecting  circumstance  of  his» 
being  found  extended  upon  the  grave  of  his  deceased 
wife. 

When  Minnie  saw  her  kind  friend  enter  the  room,  she 
sprang    forward   to   meet    her  ;    and,  without   speaking, 
pointed    her    little    finger   toward    the    bed        Alice    sa* 
32 


374  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

quietly  down,  and   took   the   child  upon  her  lap,  while 
Clarence  stood  beside  her. 

A  low  groan  came  from  the  bedside,  followed  by  a 
quick  gasp  from  the  sufferer.  ' 

"  There,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  he  s  come  to.  Give  me 
the  bandages,  nurse,  I  don't  want  to  debilitate  him.  He 
was  pretty  near  gons." 

Clarence  advanced,  and  taking  the  cold  hand,  vigor- 
ously chafed  it,  and  in  the  course  of  half  an  hour,  with 
the  help  of  camphor  and  water,  which  they  succeeded  in 
forcing  down  his  throat,  the  man  revived  to  a  full  sense 
of  his  situation,  and  of  his  dreadful  loss.  He  took  no 
notice  of  his  children,  though  Alice  had  persuaded  Minnie 
to  put  her  hand  on  papa's  head.  With  a  shudder  he 
motioned  her  away,  as  if  the  sight  were  too  intimately 
connected  with  the  memory  of  her  mother  for  his  present 
endurance.  His  grief  was  too  deep  for  tears,  and  his  ex- 
pression of  unuttered  agony  appealed  to  every  heart 
The  presence  of  strangers  seemed  to  annoy  him.  Clar- 
ence and  Alice,  therefore,  reluctantly  departed,  afte> 
making  arrangements  with  Nurse  Green  to  do  every 
thing  for  the  comfort  of  the  invalid. 

Recommending  a  bowl  of  warm  gruel  for  the  poo* 
man,  the  Doctor  also  hurried  away  to  make  a  tardy  call 
upon  his  other  patients.  Nurse  Green  went  quietly  to 
her  work  in  the  shed,  hoping  Mr.  Hayden  would  fall 
asleep.  But  he  was  no  sooner  alone  than  he  arose 
feebly,  and  sat  upon  the  side  of  his  bed,  his  eyes  cast 
down  to  the  floor ;  then  he  slowly  raised  them,  and  took 
a  full  survey  of  everything  which  the  room  contained. 
After  two  or  three  efforts,  he  succeeded  in  walking  across 


IN    DISGUISE.  37? 

the  room  to  a  rocking-chair,  in  which  he  sat,  when  Min- 
nie, directed  by  her  brother,  who  from  the  inner  room  had 
anxiously  watched  his  father's  motions,  advanced  shyly 
toward  him,  turning  her  head  a  little  on  one  side,  and 
glancing  up  through  her  curls  in  a  most  winning  man- 
ner. She  could  not  understand  the  shade  of  anguish 
which  passed  over  his  face,  and  was  about  to  dart  back 
to  her  brother,  when  the  poor  desolate  father  beckoned 
her  toward  him. 

"  Dear  papa,  dear  papa"  she  repeated  softly,  putting 
her  little  hand  in  his. 

The  father's  heart  was  touched,  and  he  caught  the 
child  to  his  breast  with  a  violence  which  frightened  her. 
Dexter  came  forward  and  soothed  her,  saying:  "  Minnie 
loves  poor  papa,  Minnie's  glad  papa's  come  home  ;"  and 
the  loving  spirit  of  the  child  was  moved  by  the  loud 
sobs  which  were  bursting  from  his  agonized  heart  She 
took  her  tiny  apron,  and  wiped  away  the  tears  which 
were  flowing  like  a  river  down  his  pale  cheek. 

Blessed  tears,  wh#t  a  relief  to  his  pent  up  grief!  Even 
Dexter,  who  had  been  frightened  at  his  silent  woe,  under- 
stood this.  Minnie's  apron  was  soon  saturated,  and 
Dexter  passed  him  a  large  handkerchief  from  the  drawer. 
And  now  father  and  son  wept  together,  as  the  latter 
related  the  circumstances  of  his  mother's  sickness  and 
deaths  her  last  words  of  blessing  upon  them,  and  love 
for  him.  "  Until  the  day  she  died,"  he  repeated.  "  she 
never  ceased  to  speak  of  you,  and  to  impress  it  upon 
our  minds  to  be  obedient  to  all  your  wishes,  because  she 
knew  if  you  ever  returned,  you  would  need  the  soothing 
influence  of  sympathy  and  affection." 


376  THK    HOUSEHOLD    ANGKL 

Though  every  word  was  a  dagger  to  the  heart  of  I'm 
bereaved  husband,  yet  he  bid  his  son  go  on  :  "  Tell  me 
all,"  he  sobbed  out,  "  every  word  ;  don't  spare  me  ;"  a  IK) 
Dexter  did  tell  him  all  her  patience  through  her  !ono 
sickness;  her  desire  to  live  for  the  sake  of  her  child!  MI 
but  her  entire  submission  to  her  heavenly  Father's  will 
"  '  He  will  provide,'  was  her  daily  remark  as  she  drew 
nearer  her  end."  He  narrated,  also,  something  of  the 
kindness  of  friends  who  had  been  raised  up  for  them,  the 
unfailing  goodness  of  young  Mrs.  Sydney,  and  what  a 
comfort  she  had  been  to  them  in  their  poverty  and  griel 
"  As  mother  received  from  you  neither  letter  nor  mes- 
sage, she  feared  your  close  confinement  had  killed  you  , 
but  beside  these  parting  words,  she  wrote  you  a  long 
letter  which  she  put  into  rny  hands  in  case  you  should 
return.  '  Tell  him,'  she  said,  when  she  gave  it  to  me, 
*  that  I  love  him  as  well  as  ever,  and  that  God  has  com- 
forted my  dying  bed  with  the  blessed  assurance  that  1 
shall  meet  him  in  Heaven.'  " 

"  Give  it  to  me,"  gasped  the  poor,  man,  putting  out  liia 
hand.  But  Dexter  replied :  "  Dear  father,  it  would  be 
better  to  delay  it  until  another  time.  I  have  still  much 
to  tell  you,  and  Nurse  Green  has  brought  your  gruel. 
Neither  you  nor  1  have  had  any  breakfast." 

Minnie  slipped  from  her  father's  lap  and  climbed  into 
the  chair.  It  was  really  affecting  to  see  how  humbly 
Mr.  Hayden  deferred  his  own  wishes  to  those  of  his  son. 
In  that  hour  of  sorrow,  Dexter  established  an  influence 
over  his  father  which  was  never  lost.  To  please  Minnie 
he  took  a  seat  at  the  table,  though  she  little  knew  what 
a  pang  it  cost  him  ;  but  his  life  was  now  to  be  made  uo 


IN    DISGUISE.  377 

of  sorrow.  The  child  reverently  folded  hei  small  hands 
and  shut  her  eyes,  then  quickly  opened  then  to  see  if  he 
were  pleased  at  her  good  conduct.  To  her  astonishment 
the  big  tears  were  rolling  down  his  cheeks.  Her  sympa- 
thies were  instantly  excited :  "  Papa,  pray ;  make  you 
feel  better;  when  Minnie  cry,  mamma  say, '  Minnie  pray,' 
make  me  well." 

But  the  father  only  shook  his  head,  and  looked  im- 
ploringly at  his  son. 

Dexter  waited  no  longer.  In  a  solemn  voice  he  im- 
plored a  blessing  upon  the  meat,  in  a  few  touching  words 
thanking  God  that,  though  their  beloved  mother  was  taken 
away,  he  had  restored  to  them  their  dear  father,  from 
whom  they  had  so  long  been  separated.  Oh,  that  simple, 
earnest  prayer !  How  long  it  lived  in  the  father's 
memory !  It  was  the  word  spoken  in  season,  which  pierced 
even  to  the  dividing  asunder  of  soul  and  spirit ;  and  be- 
came, under  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  mighty  to  the 
salvation  of  his  soul.  God  had  heard  the  fervent,  im- 
portunate prayers  of  his  wife,  and  He  was  waiting  to  be 
gracious. 

Mr.  Hayden  made  a  great  effort  to  calm  his  feelings. 
He  ruined  the  bowl  to  his  lips  and  tried  to  swallow  ;  but 
his  emotions  choked  him,  and  he  abruptly  left  the  table, 
and  retired  to  the  inner  room. 

Dexier  was  much  perplexed  to  know  whether  he  ought 
(o  follow  him,  but.  a  look  from  Nurse  Green  decided  him 
to  reir.ain  where  he  was.  Directly  after  breakfast  the 
children  had  been  wont  to  kneel  by  the  bedside  of  their 
mother;  but  now  that  she  \vns  gone,  what  were  they  to 
do?  It  was  her  dying  request  to  Dexter,  f  ha*  ae 


378  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

continue  these  family  devotions  with  his  sister.  He 
therefore  seated  Minnie  by  his  side,  and  taking  the  Bible 
and  Prayer-book,  in  a  broken  voice,  commenced  reading- 
When  he  concluded,  violent  sobs  from  the  inner  room 
arrested  his  attention.  The  door  had  been  opened,  and 
the  poor  penitent  was  upon  his  knees,  while  the  fervent  cry 
of  the  publican,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,"  was 
upon  his  lips.  Such  a  cry  never  goes  forth  in  vain  ! 

Two  days  later,  Mr.  Hayden  having  received  from  his 
son  the  letter  of  his  dying  wife,  retired  to  his  chamber, 
where,  with  trembling  hands  he  broke  the  seal,  opened 
and  read,  as  follows  :  — 

"  My  very  dear  husband,  — 

"  Though  I  know  not  whether  you  are  in  the  land 
of  the  living,  yet  I  feel  constrained  to  write  you  this 
farewell,  so  that,  if  you  should  ever  return  to  your  family, 
you  may  know  how  fully  and  freely  I  have  forgiven  all 
the  past,  and  with  what  an  assurance  of  hope  I  look 
forward  to  spending  an  eternity  with  you  in  Heaven. 
Yes,  God  has  heard  my  prayers  in  your  behalf,  and  has 
granted  me  an  answer  of  peace.  All  my  nights  of 
wrestling  for  you  are  over ;  all  my  inward  groaning,  lest 
the  separation  which  has  been  so  afflictive,  should  be 
eternal.  I  am  soon  going  home,  and  there,  in  God's 
own  good  time,  I  hope  to  meet  you. 

"  Later.  Every  day  I  grow  weaker,  and  I  rejoice  that 
my  sojourn  is  almost  ended.  I  shall  soon  be  with  my 
Saviour,  where  I  shall  be  free  from  sin  and  sorrow.  My 
heavenly  Father  has  taken  from  death  its  only  remaining 
terror,  the  thought  of  leaving  my  children.  But  why 


IN    DISGUISE.  ->79 

should  I  fear?  He  i?  a  covenant  keeping  God,  and  will 
provide  for  them.  He  has  raised  them  up  friends,  and  J 
•vi  u  cheerfully  leave  Ihem  in  his  paternal  care. 

Sabbath  morning.  The  film  of  death  has  aheady  be- 
gun to  gather  over  my  eyes.  My  pen  trembles  in  my 
hand,  but  a  few  lines  will  assure  you  that  the  Saviour  is 
my  support.  His  presence  will  lighten  the  dark  valley. 
His  right  arm  will  uphold  me  amidst  the  swellings  of 
Jordan.  I  shall  soon  be  safe  in  my  heavenly  home. 
Bear  in  mind  that  your  Maria  loved  you  to  the  end,  and 
that  my  last  earthly  thought  will  be  a  prayer  for  blessings 
on  your  head. 

"  Let  every ." 

The  last  sentence  was  interrupted  by  a  violent  fit  of 
coughing,  and  was  never  finished. 

In  the  meantime  the  family  at  Lindenwood  (for  all 
of  them  had  become  interested  in  Alice's  protege's),  were 
planning  what  was  best  to  be  done  for  the  reformed  man. 
The  wish  of  the  young  wife,  Mrs.  Sydney,  to  take  charge 
of  Minnie,  seemed  no  longer  feasible,  since  it  would  bo 
cruel  to  separate  the  children  from  their  afflicted  father 
Fncle  Stephen  renewed  his  proposal  to  his  young  al 
moner  to  draw  upon  him  tfl  any  extent  she  might  deem 
necessary  to  set  up  the  man  in  some  permanent  business. 
It  was  easily  ascertained,  through  Mr.  Gates,  that  he 
had  formerly  been  a  master-mason,  and  at  the  time  he  was 
married,  considered  one  of  the  best  workmen  in  the  town. 
The  man  who  had  taken  his  place,  was  induced,  by  the 
representation  of  Clarence,  to  offer  him  work,  upon  the 
condition,  if  his  reformation  were  permanent,  of  shoitly 


380  THE    HOUSKHOLD    AXGEL. 

taking  him  into  partnership;    an  arrangement   equal!) 
beneficial  to  both. 

His  kind  friends  did  not  wish  to  hurry  him.  They 
preferred  to  give  him  time  to  recruit  his  strength,  and  1o 
improve  by  the  affliction  which  had  visited  him.  But 
when  Clarence,  at  the  request  of  his  wife,  called  to  in- 
form him  of  the  arrangements  which  had  been  made,  he 
found  he  had  removed  a  burden  which  weighed  heavily 
upon  Mr.  Hayden's  mind.  The  poor  man,  with  his 
humiliating  views  of  himself,  felt  that  he  could  never 
venture  to  solicit  employment  from  those  acquainted 
with  his  former  character,  and  had  even  meditated  a  re 
inoval  to  a  town  where  he  was  not  known.  This  he  knew 
would  be  a  sad  trial  for  Dexter,  as  he  would  be  obliged 
to  leave  the  Academy  where  he  was  so  successfully  prose- 
cuting his  studies.  He  acknowledged  the  kindness,  with 
a  fervor  which  showed  the  relief  it  had  afforded  him,  es- 
pecially when  Mrs.  Green  was  requested  to  remain  for 
the  present,  and  take  care  of  the  family. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

"  Not  for  this  span  of  life  alone, 

Which  as  a  blast  doth  fly, 
And,  like  the  transient  flower  of  grass, 

Just  blossom,  droop,  and  die ; 
But  for  a  being  without  end, 

This  vow  of  love  we  take. 
Grant  us,  O  God  !  one  home  at  last, 

For  our  Redeemer's  sake."  —  Mrs.  Sigourney. 

IT  was  now  the  third  week  in  April.  Mr.  Stanley 
had  gone  to  New  York  to  meet  Gertrude,  and  prepara- 
tions were  going  on  briskly  for  Emma's  wedding.  Every 
mail  brought  a  long  epistle  from  Prof.  Fowler,  consulting 
his  betrothed  with  reference  to  arrangements  about  the 
house,  and  on  other  subjects.  During  the  winter  and 
spring,  she  had  also  received  many  kind  letters  and  mes- 
sages from  the  quaint  old  lady,  her  ci-devant  travelling 
companion,  and  also  from  her  daughter  Julia.  I  will 
quote  from  one  of  the  former. 

:<  Although  I  have  not  for  many  years  been  used  to 
writing  letters,  except  to  my  children,  yet  my  son  assures 
me  that  you  will  not  take  it  amiss  if  I  tell  you  how 
pleased  I  was  when  he  informed  me  you  had  consented 
to  be  his  wife.  I  can't  quite  understand  how  it  all  came 
about  so  soon  ;  and,  when  I  asked  my  son,  he  only 
smiled,  and  said  he  hardly  knew  himself.  Now,  tbough 

381 


OgO  THR    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

he  is  one  of  the  best  of  children,  yet  I  must  say  he  i* 
c.ear  Fowler  in  regard  to  talking.     His  father  was  jusi 
so  before  him,  while  the  Perkinses  (my  ancestor.)  wer 
famous  for  being  social  and  free.     I  often  tell  my  darter 
Julia  (the  one,  you  know,  I  was  carrying  the  cnrra, 
wine  to)  that  I  don't  feel  altogether  at  ease  with  } 
brother,  especially  since  he's  got  to  be  a  professor;  and 
[  hope  you'll  accept  this  as  the  best  apology  I  can  o 
for  not  introducing  you  to  him  the  day  we  rode  together. 
I  was  astonished,  I  must  confess,  when  he  told  me 
had  never  even  mentioned  the  subject  to  you;  and,  tc 
tell  the  truth,  that  is  why  I  was  more  willing  to  writ 
a  stranger,  that  you  might  not  think  I  was  ignorant , 
what  belonged  to  good  manners. 

"Hoping  that  you  will  take  what  I  have  written  i 
good  part,  I  will  close  by  saying  that,  as  soon  as  1 
my  son    was    going    to  be  married,  I  hired    a   woman, 
Phebe  Davson  by  name,  into  the  house,  to  make  hm 
up  a  set  of  linen   and   a  set  of  cotton   shirts,  toget 
with  all  other  necessary  articles  for  his  wardrobe. 
Tn  great  haste,  your  very  true  friend, 

HANNAH  P.  FOVVLKR. 

«  P  S      In  reading  my 'letter  over  this  morning,  I  see 
1  have  forgotten  to  tell  you  that  you'll  be  right  welcome 
to  the  family,  and  to  none  of  them  more  so  than  fa 
as  I  tell  my  son  I  am  the  best  acquainted  with  you 
any  of  them.     I  also  forgot  to  tell  you  that  I  have  con 
menced  on  a  dozen  pairs  of  lambswool  stockings 

Yours, 

H.  P.  FOWLER." 


IN    DISGUISE.  383 

The  wedding  was  to  take  place  on  the  morning  of  the 
first  day  of  May,  when  the  bridal  party  would  attend 
the  newly  married  pair  about  one  hundred  milus  on  their 
way  toward  the  Falls  of  Niagara.  On  their  return,  a 
party  of  friends  were  invited  to  meet  them  at  the  Hall, 
when  they  immediately  proceeded  to  B . 

The  .arrival  of  Gertrude  in  fine  spirits,  and  looking 
more  beautiful  than  ever,  caused  quite  a  jubilee  in  the 
family.  The  meeting  between  Gertrude  and  Edith  was 
truly  affecting,  such  a  change  had  taken  place  in  each 
of  them  since  they  last  met.  It  was  not,  however,  until 
on  retiring  to  rest,  they  knelt  side  by  side,  and  offered 
their  earnest  prayers  for  protection,  pardon,  and  peace, 
that  either  realized  the  beauty  which  religion  had  im- 
parted to  the  character  of  the  other. 

The  day  following  Gertrude's  return,  when  the  whole 
family  were  assembled  in  the  parlor,  a  servant  entered 
with  a  card,  which  she  presented  to  Gertrude,  \vho,  with 
a  very  rosy  hue  upon  her  bright  countenance,  passed  it 
to  her  father.  Mr.  Stanley  smiled  as  he  ordered  the 
servant  to  show  the  gentleman  into  the  room. 

Alice  glanced  at  her  husband,  but  he  was  evidently  at 
a  loss  to  conceive  the  cause  of  the  mysterious  smiles  of 
her  parents  or  the  blushes  of  her  sister.  They  had  not 
long  to  wait,  however,  for  Mr.  Stanley  stepped  toward 
the  door,  and  cordially  welcomed  Mr.  Henderson,  from 
Baltimore.  Gertrude  also  advanced  a  few  steps,  and,  if 
her  words  did  not  express  as  much  as  her  father's,  the 
gentleman  appeared  fully  satisfied  with  his  reception. 
Mr.  Stanley  then  turned  to  introduce  his  wife,  when,  to 
the  astonishment  of  all  present,  with  a  surden  start  ho 


384  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

sprang  forward,  and  grasped  both  her  hands,  while 
u  Charles  !  "  "  Marion  !  "  and  «  Can  it  be  possible  ?  " 
were  all  that  for  a  time  could  be  heard,  as  the  two  ear- 
nestly gazed  at  each  other.  But  soon,  remembering  that 
her  friend  had  not  yet  been  introduced  to  all  the  family, 
Mrs.  Stanley  led  him  first  to  Uncle  Stephen,  and  then 
to  each  of  the  others,  saying,  "  This  is  my  dear  friend, 
of  whom  you  have  so  often  heard  me  speak,  —  the 
Charles,  Alice,  about  whom  I  have  related  so  many 
pleasing  reminiscences." 

All  formality  was  now  ended  by  this  recognition  ;  and 
Mr.  Henderson,  or  Charley,  as  his  early  friend  Marion 
called  him,  was  received  at  once  as  a  member  of  the 
family. 

She  drew  him  shortly  into  the  large  window,  where 
he  was  very  earnest  in  telling  her  some  piece  of  good 
news,  to  which  she  listened  with  pleased  attention,  until 
he  said,  "  How  very  singular,  Marion,  that,  instead  of  a 
name  by  which  I  once  aspired  to  call  you,  my  highest 
ambition  now  is  to  dignify  you  with  the  title  of  mamma!" 

The  merry  peal  of  laughter  which  burst  from  both  of 
them  called  forth  an  answering  echo  in  the  room  ;  and 
Gertrude,  obeying  a  summons  from  her  mother,  advanced 
to  inquire  the  cause. 

Mr.  Henderson  arose  and  gave  her  a  seat,  while  lie 
drew  a  chair  near,  as  he  said,  "  Now,  Gertrude,  I  may  as 
well  confess  that  I  have  not  told  you  all  my  wild  pranks. 
I  suppose  Marion  would  be  hinting  that  you  were  not 
my  first  love  ;  so  I'll  tell  you  all.  When  I  was  a  boy  of 

fourteen,  I  lived  in  C ,  and  was  the  nearest  neighbor 

of  Marion  Thurston.     I  had  no  sisters,  and  she  had  no 


IN   DISGUISE  385 

brothers  ;  so  it  was  natural  that  she  should  call  upon  me 
for  any  of  the  kind  offices,  such  as  are  usually  rendered 
by  brothers,  and  it  was  nothing  more  than  natural  that 
I  should  love  to  render  them."  A  merry  glance  at  Ger- 
trude's downcast  eyes  and  heightened  color  warned  the 
young  man  he  was  treading  on  dangerous  ground,  and 
he  leaned  forward  and  whispered  a  few  impassioned 
words  in  her  ear. 

"  Go  on,"  was  her  only  reply. 

"  Well,  Marion  was  at  that  time,  in  my  eyes  at  least, 
a  very  pretty,  modest  little  girl,  very  unlike  the  other 
misses  of  my  acquaintance.  When  my  father  died,"  he 
added,  with  a  saddened  voice,  "  (my  mother  died  when 
T  was  an  infant,)  there  was  no  one  who  could  soothe 
me  like  Marion  ;  and  I  was  rendered  happier  than  I  ever 
expected  to  be  again  by  an  arrangement  her  father  made 
to  take  me  into  his  family,  that  I  might  pursue  my 
studies  under  his  care.  My  little  companion  did  every- 
thing to  make  me  forget  my  sorrow,  and  Mr.  Thurston 
acted  toward  me  the  part  of  a  tender  father.  One  day 
Marion  and  I  were  sitting  together  in  a  small  vine-cov- 
ered arbor  at  the  foot  of  the  garden,  when  T  told  her 
that  I  loved  her  better  than  a  sister,  and  asked  her,  when 
we  grew  up,  to  be  my  wife." 

Poor  Gertrude !  she  could  not  help  it.  She  drew 
away  the  small  hand  he  had  made  prisoner.  It  was 
hard  to  think  he  had  loved  another. 

Mr.  Henderson,  with  rather  a  grave  expression,  hurried 

to  the  conclusion  of  his  story.     "  But  Marion  told  me 

we  were  too  young  to  think  upon  such  subjects  ;  that 

she  loved  me  very  dearly  as  a  sister ;  but  that  I  should 

33 


386  THE    HOUSEHOLD    AXGEJ, 

soon  go  away  to  become  a  merchant,  and  then  I  should 
be  glad  that  we  had  not  been  so  foolish  as  to  engage 
ourselves  to  each  other,  for  I  might  see  some  one  I 
should  like  much  better.  Marion  always  was  wise 
beyond  her  years;  and  in  this  case  she  certainly  mani- 
fested great  wisdom.  That  scene  in  the  arbor  was 
twenty  years  ago  ;  and  from  that  time  until  I  saw  you, 
dearest,"  he  said,  respectfully  taking  her  hand,  and  low- 
ering his  voice,  "  I  have  never  seen  a  lady  of  whom  ] 
should  wish  to  ask  such  a  question." 

He  spoke  so  sadly,  as  if  he  feared  he  had  offended 
her,  and  yet  so  earnestly,  that  Gertrude  rewarded  his 
frankness  with  a  bright  glance  of  affection. 

"There!"  said  he,  starting  up,  "  I  feel  happier  than 
ever.  I  have  confessed  all  my  sins  in  that  line,  and  re- 
ceived absolution.  I'll  look  out  and  behave  well  for  the 
future." 

"  I  wouldn't  like  to  be  responsible  for  you,"  said 
Marion,  laughing ;  "  you  are  just  the  same  Charley  as 
of  old.  But,  if  Gertrude  is  willing  to  try,  I  can  be 
surety  for  you  that  you  will  keep  nothing  concealed  from 
her.  You  never  could  keep  a  secret,  Charley." 

Mr.  Stanley  now  approached,  and  said,  "  I  think  it  is 
high  time  for  me  to  come  forward,  and  hear  what  is  so 
secret." 

"  It  was  so  joyful  and  unexpected  a  meeting  with  my 
old  friend,"  answered  Mr.  Henderson,  "  that  I  begin  to 
think  I've  acted  very  foolishly  in  carrying  her  back  to  old 
times,  about  which  she  seems  to  have  forgotten/' 

During  the  few  days  which  intervened  before  (he 
redding,  Charley,  as  the  whole  family  soon  learned  to 


IN    DISGUISE.  38 / 

call  him,  made  himself  so  useful,  that  Emma  said  she 
did  not  see  how  they  had  ever  done  without  him. 

Mr.  Stanley  had  communicated  to  the  family  the  fact 
of  his  conditional  engagement  to  Gertrude,  while  they 
were  at  the  South,  but  to  which  she  could  not  fully  con- 
sent without  the  knowledge  and  approbation  of  her 
parents.  Now,  however,  the  engagement  was  ratified  by 
their  approval. 

Mr.  Henderson  had  spent  the  past  winter  in  Aiken,  a 
celebrated  resort  for  invalids,  having  gone  there  to  accom- 
pany a  son  of  his  partner,  where  he  met  Gertrude,  who, 
with  her  friend,  was  boarding  at  the  same  hotel.  Their 
acquaintance  soon  ripened  into  friendship,  and  friendship 
into  love  ;  and,  when  she  left  for  the  north,  he  accom- 
panied the  party  with  which  she  travelled  as  far  as  New 
York,  and  there  obtained  permission  from  her  father  to 
follow  them  to  Lindenwood. 

The  day  before  Emma  was  to  leave,  Doctor  Jenks 
called  to  bid  her  farewell.  He  seemed  in  fine  spirits,  and 
told  her  he  was  looking  forward  to  a  wedding  in  the  fall, 
when  Maurice  returned.  Seeing  her  look  of  astonish- 
ment, he  continued,  "  I  have  received  a  letter  from  Capt 
Bruce,  in  which  he  tells  me  that  the  conduct  of  my  son 
has  been  so  exemplary,  that  he  has  promoted  him  to  be 
first  mate.  And  in  a  letter  Maurice  wrote  to  Amy,  he 
claims  her  promise  that  when  he  is  thus  advanced,  she 
will  become  Mrs.  .lenks,  junior.  Poor  Amy  little  thought 
he  would  claim  her  so  soon  ;  but  I  tell  her  a  promise  is  a 
promise,  and  ir  wont  do  for  her  to  be  setting  him  an  ex- 
ample of  violating  his  word.  'Twould  be  hard  for  wife 
and  I  to  give  her  up,  she  worked  so  naturally  right  into 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

the  place  of  a  daughter.  Wife  was  saying  yesterday  she 
never  had  had  her  caps  done  up  so  neatly,  and  she  thinks 
it  is  all  because  Amy  is  Scotch." 

In  the  evening,  when  Professor  Fowler  arrived  with 
his  sister,  Mrs.  Julia  Norton,  Mr.  Henderson  looked  upon 
him  with  envy,  as  being  on  the  eve  of  his  marriage.  lie 
oven  went  to  Mr.  Stanley  to  beg  that  his  nuptials  might 
be  celebrated  at  the  same  time.  Mr.  Stanley  shook  his 
head,  but  sent  him  to  his  daughter,  who  decidedly  refused 
to  be  spirited  oft'  in  such  a  hurry,  and  told  him  he  de- 
served to  wait  a  year  for  thinking  of  such  a  thing. 

"If  you'll  forgive  me  this  once," — he  began  with 
mock  gravity  ;  but  Gertrude  interrupted  him,  though  she 
could  not  refrain  from  laughing.  "  Stop,  stop !  "  said 
?he,  "  I'm  tired  out  of  your  confessions  and  promises. 
You've  done  nothing  for  the  last  week  but  to  offend,  and 
make  resolutions  of  amendment.  When  will  you  ever 
seriously  set  about  improving  1  " 

"  Just  as  soon,  dear  Gertrude,"  he  answered,  his  coun- 
tenance becoming  serious,  "  as  you  will  take  me  under 
your  training.  But  really,  love,  tell  me  if  I  have  pained 
you  by  my  levity  1  I  have  so  very  light  a  heart,  I  may 
have  erred." 

Gertrude  was  obliged  to  turn  away  to  conceal  a  tear 
which  was  glistening  in  her  eye.  The  frankness  and 
good  temper  of  her  friend  was  a  cordial  to  her  heart,  for 
she  knew  him  to  be  possessed  of  a  deep,  warm  under- 
current of  principle  and  affection.  Perceiving  that  he 
spoke  seriously,  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  which  she  vainly 
endeavored  to  render  calm,  "  I  think,  then,  I  must  com- 
mence my  discipline  very  soon,  or  you  will  be  beyond  my 
influence." 


IN    DISGUISE.  389 

May-day  dawned  clear  and  bright.  The  inmates  of 
Lindemvood  Hall  rose  early,  to  be  in  preparation  for  the 
good'  clergyman,  who  was  to  arrive  at  nine.  Emma 
expressed  much  disappointment  that  Mrs.  Fowler  had 
been  detained  at  home  by  a  sudden  attack  of  sickness  ; 
but  a  large  basket  carefully  packed  in  straw  came  from 
her,  directed  to  Emma.  On  opening  it  the  preceding  eve- 
ning, the  young  bride  found  an  old-fashioned  silver  tea 
set,  of  quaint  device,  which  she  said  she  had  always  re- 
served for  her  son,  and  which  she  requested  Emma  to 
use  on  ordinary  occasions.  The  reason  of  the  latter  re- 
quest was  evident,  when  Prof.  Fowler  conveyed  to  her 
room  a  magnificent  service  of  plate,  more  modern  in 
style,  though  no  more  really  valuable.  "  Please  accept 
this  from  your  new  sister  Julia,"  whispered  Mrs.  Norton. 

At  nine  the  bridal  party  entered  the  parlor,  equipped 
for  their  journey.  The  family,  with  Rev.  Mr.  Badger, 
Dr.  Jenks,  and  a  few  intimate  friends,  awaited  them. 
Without  taking  their  seats,  they  stood  before  the  clergy- 
man, when  Professor  Fowler  took  from  his  finger  the 
mystic  ring,  which  was  so  soon  to  unite  them  for  life. 

Just  as  the  ceremony  was  about  to  commence,  the 
bridegroom,  noticing  that  the  young  girl  leaning  on  his 
arm  trembled  excessively,  could  not  refrain  from  saying, 
in  a  voice  intended  only  for  her  ear,  "  Dearest,  it  shall  be 
(he  aim  of  my  life  to  render  you  so  happy  that  you  will 
never  regret  this  moment." 

If  his  mother  had  only  heard  him,  she  might  have 
thought,  "  Well,  after  all,  there  may  be  something  of  the 
Perkins  about  him  ;  that's  so  like  me." 

The  wedding  was   over,  the  bride'.';  cake  had    been 
33* 


390  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

passed,  and  the  party  were  waiting  for  the  carriage  t*, 
convey  them  to  the  depot.  Uncle  Stephen,  who  had  sud- 
denly disappeared  immediately  after  the  ceremony,  was 
seen  beckoning  the  bride  from  the  room.  She  hastened 
to  join  him,  when  he  put  into  her  hand  a  folded  piper, 
saying,  as  he  hastily  turned  away,  "  Just  for  your  name, 
you  know." 

"  Dear,  kind  Uncle  Stephen  !  "  said  the  warm-hearted 
girl,  glancing  at  its  contents,  and  thrusting  it  into  her 
pocket,  "  is  it  only  for  my  name  that  you  have  always 
been  so  very  kind  to  me,  and  tried  to  help  me  to  be  a 
good  girl  ?  Don't  you  love  me  a  very  little  for  myself, 
too  ?  "  and  she  clasped  her  arms  closely  around  his  neck. 

"  There,  child ! "  he  answered,  Kissing  her  heartily, 
while  the  tears  began  to  stream  down  his  cheeks.  "  I'm 
an  old  fool  to  cry  when  I'm  so  happy.  You're  a  good 
girl,  Emma,  and  I  myself  shouldn't  have  objected  to  tak- 
ing you  for  a  wife." 

This  was  the  greatest  compliment  Uncle  Stephen  ever 
paid,  and  the  bride  could  not  help  smiling  through  her 
tears.  "  I  love  you  a  great  deal  better  as  Uncle  Ste- 
phen," she  said,  laughing,  and  again  kissing  her  good-bye. 

When  they  were  seated  in  the  cars,  Emma  placed  the 
folded  paper  in  the  hands  of  her  husband. 

He  started.  "  Why,  Emma,  you  didn't  tell  me  you  were 
an  heiress  !  " 

"  Am  I  ?•"  she  asked,  smiling ;  "  I  didn't  know  it  my- 
self." 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  reading  from  the  paper,  "  you 
have  funds  in  two  banks  in  New  York,  amounting  to  the 
very  pretty  sum  of  fifteen  thousand  dollars." 


IN    DISGUISE.  391 

"  I'm  glad  I  didn't  know  it  before,"  she  said,  archly. 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  —  "  but  the  explanation  was  interrupted  by 
the  conductor,  who  was  patiently  standing  at  the  side  of 
the  young  husband,  and  who,  finding  his  presence  unno- 
ticed, touched  his  shoulder,  saying,  "  Tickets,  if  you 
please." 

Alice  leaned  over  the  seat,  and  whispered,  "  Clarence 
says  Prof.  Fowler  had  better  resign  the  tickets  and  bag- 
gage to  his  care,  until  we  leave  you." 

On  the  return  of  Gertrude  and  Alice  with  their  party, 
Mr.  Henderson  plead  earnestly  with  his  friend  Marion  to 
intercede  for  him,  that  his  marriage  need  not  be  delayed 
beyond  the  first  of  June.  He  had  in  vain  urged  Gertrude 
to  consent  to  this.  She  had  been  absent  several  months, 
and  wished  to  remain  at  home  until  fall,  especially  as 
Edith  might  leave  the  country  at  that  time. 

A  very  strong  friendship  had  grown  up  between  Ger- 
trude and  Edith.  Notwithstanding  both  of  them  were 
actuated  by  new  principles  and  motives,  entirely  unlike 
those  which  formerly  governed  their  conduct,  yet  their 
natural  traits  were  unchanged.  Gertrude  was  lively  and 
rather  indolent,  when  nothing  of  special  interest  called 
for  her  attention.  To  be  sure  she  did  not  indulge  herself 
in  this  habit,  as  formerly ;  but  this  was  what  she  consid- 
ered her  infirmity.  Edith,  on  the  contrary,  was  firm, 
self-relying,  and  energetic.  These  traits  marked,  also, 
her  religious  character.  She  entered  with  her  whole  heart 
into  whatever  she  undertook.  She  might  not  always 
choose  the  best,  or  wisest  means,  in  the  performance  ol 
an  action ;  but  her  zeal  was  untiring.  In  earlier  life 


392  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

Edith,  though  several  years  younger,  acquired  a  §tcat 
influence  over  Gertrude,  and  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen 
that  she  still  leaned  upon  her.  Happy  was  it  for  Ger- 
trude that  Lhe  influence  now  was  ever  for  good. 

«  Would  you  do  this  ?  "  or  "  Shall  I  do  that  ?  "  were 
questions  which  Gertrude  had  always  been  in  the  habit 
ol  asking.  Now  Edith  endeavored  to  assist  her  to  fix 
principles  by  which  to  govern  her  conduct.  " '  Is  it 
right?'  is  the  question,  dear  sister,  and  the  only  question." 
She  would  hardly  admit  there  were  any  questions  of 
expediency  which  would  not  come  under  some  settled 
rule. 

About  a  week  after  Emma  had  finally  left  them,  as 
Gertrude  and  Edith  were  sitting  in  the  bright  moonlight, 
talking  of  the  past,  present,  and  future,  "  Do  you  know, 
sister,"  asked  the  former,  "  that  I  think  you  are  just  the 
one  for  a  missionary  ?  " 

Edith's  countenance  changed  so  suddenly  that  it  could 
not  escape  the  notice  of  her  sister ;  but  neither  of  them 
spoke  for  a  time. 

At  length  Edith  said,  tremulously,  "  You  would  not 
say  that,  if  you  knew  my  heart.  Oh,  it  makes  me  shud- 
der when  I  remember  what  a  proud,  rebellious  heart 
mine  has  been !  Sometimes,"  she  added,  her  voice  sink- 
ing to  a  lower  key,  and  expressing  deep  feeling,  "  some- 
times I  am  tempted  to  fear  that  I  cannot  be  forgiven  ; 
that  my  sins  have  been  too  aggravated.  But  that  is  only 
when  I  forget  the  heavy  price  which  has  been  paid  for 
my  ransom.  Far  oftener  my  feelings  are  expressed  by 
the  words  which  are  ever  running  through  my  mind  : 

•' '  Love  I  much,  I'm  much  forgiven, 
I'm  a  miracle  of  grace.'  " 


IN    DISGt'ISE. 

Gertrude  grasped  her  sister's  hand  as  she  was  speak- 
ing, and  was  deeply  moved  by  her  earnest  words. 

After  a  long  pause,  during  which  they  sat  gazing  at 
the  bright  moon  shining  in  cloudless  splendor,  Gertende 
asked,  "  Do  you  never  feel  sad  at  the  thought  of  lea\iii" 
all  you  love,  and  going  so  far  away  to  live  and  die  among 
the  heathen  ?  " 

Edith  smiled  sadly  as  she  replied,  "  You  have  asked  in 
a  few  words  a  question  it  would  take  me  a  long  time  to 
answer.  In  the  first  place,  though  I  leave  you,  dear  Ger- 
trude, and  never,  until  within  the  last  few  weeks,  have 
known  how  dearly  I  loved  you,  yet  I  take  my  dearest 
friends  with  me.  Without  one  of  them  at  least,  my 
heart  would  indeed  sink,  go  where  I  would." 

"  One  of  them  ?  Why,  Edith,  I  didn't  know  any  one 
was  to  accompany  you  but  Alfred." 

"  You  forget  in  whose  service  we  go,"  was  the  whis- 
pered response,  "  and  he  says, '  I  will  never  leave  you  nor 
forsake  you.' "  Then  she  added,  aloud,  "  When  I  see 
you  and  Charley  together,  or  Alice  and  Clarence,  and 
think  how  many  other  ties  you  have  to  distract  your  af- 
fections, it  often  brings  to  mind  the  fact  that  soon  Alfred 
and  T  shall  be  all  the  world  to  each  other.  I  mean  as  far 
as  society  and  social  enjoyment  is  concerned.  I  almost 
tremble  to  think  his  happiness  will  be  so  dependent  upon 
me,  for  my  temper  is  so  easily  aroused.  Dear  Gertrude ! " 
she  exclaimed,  with  a  burst  of  feeling,  "you  will  not  for- 
get to  pray  forme.  Think,  too,"  she  added,  after  a  pause, 
"  vhat  blessings  I  have.  What  a  friend  Alfred  ha? 
proved  himself  to  be;  and  then  think  what  a  glorious 
work  to  be  engaged  in!  To  carry  the  news  of  a  ciuci- 


394  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

fied  Saviour  to  the  poor,  deluded  heathen.  Perhaps  you 
cannot  realize  it ;  but  I  think  it  would  be  the  greatest 
trial  of  my  life  not,  to  go  and  labor  for  their  salvation  , 
at  the  same  time  I  fully  appreciate  the  sacrifice  it  will-be 
to  part  from  so  many  dear  and  tried  friends.  A  father, 
mother,  and  sisters,  who  have  borne  with  my  obstinacy, 
my  petulance,  my  self-will,  and  have  loved  me,  notwith- 
standing all  my  faults.  1  am  surprised,  too,  at  Uncle  Ste- 
phen, whon  he  knows  me  so  well,  that  he  should  deem  me 
worthy  to  go  out  under  his  patronage,  and  as  a  compan- 
ion for  one  whom  he  has  loved  and  treated  like  a  son  ; 
but  Alfred  told  me,  when  I  urged  my  character  as  an  ob- 
jection, that  he  had  expressed  himself  as  well  satisfied 
with  the  choice. 

Many  conversations  like  the  above  took  place  during 
the  summer,  not  only  with  Edith,  but  with  every  mem- 
ber of  the  family,  for  Edith  had  become  very  frank,  with 
all  her  friends.  Especially  did  she  enjoy  a  quiet  talk  with 
Uncle  Stephen  about  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  peo- 
ple among  whom  she  was  so  soon  to  dwell.  He  informed 
her  of  the  present  state  of  the  mission,  read  to  her  letters 
from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Huntington,  and  then  expressed  more 
fully  his  wishes  with  regard  to  the  schools,  and  the  print- 
ing press,  which  he  had  lately  sent  out.  At  length  one 
day  when  she  was  looking  over  and  referring  to  a  letter 
Uncle  Stephen  had  read  her,  she  came  to  a  few  words 
which  he  informed  her  were  in  Hindoostanee,  when  the 
thought  suddenly  occurred  to  her,  "  Why  couldn't  I  be 
learning  the  language  ?  "  Her  face  flushed  wHh  pleasure 
at  the  thought,  and  she  eagerly  inquired,  "  Have  you  any 
elementary  books  in  the  language  ?  " 


IN    DISGUISE.  395 

"  No,"  he  replied,  though  he  added,  after  a  moment, "  I 
think  Clarence  has." 

"  And  will  you  assist  me  if  1  try  to  be  getting  an  in- 
sight into  it  ?  And  will  you  keep  my  secret  ?  "  were 
her  rapid  questions. 

Without  answering,  Uncle  Stephen  walked  quickly 
into  the  adjoining  room,  where  Clarence  kept  his  private 
library,  his  law  books  being  at  his  office,  and  soon  re- 
turned with  a  small  book,  answering  to  an  English 
primer,  and  also  a  dictionary.  "  Clarence  would  gladly 
teach  you,"  he  said. 

But  no,  Edith  preferred  him  for  a  teacher,  and  a  teacher 
he  gladly  consented  to  be.  Ever  since  his  return  to  Amer- 
ica she  had  heard  both  Uncle  Stephen  and  Clarence  use 
expressions  in  Hindoostanee,  and  when  Alfred  first  came 
to  the  Hall,  he  had  taught  her  several  phrases,  with  which 
she  had  delighted  her  school  companions  on  her  return  to 

F ,  so  that  the  sound  of  the  language  was  not  wholly 

unfamiliar  to  her  ear.  She  took  a  lesson  in  the  sound  of 
the  letters  that  very  day,  and  lay  awake  nearly  half  the 
night,  trying  to  recall  the  meaning  of  certain  words 
which  were  running  through  her  mind.  When  at  last 
she  fell  asleep,  the  curiously-formed  letters  were  dancing 
before  her  excited  vision,  while  half-clad  Hindoos  seemed 
screaming  meaningless  words  in  her  ears. 

It  is  doubtful  .whether  Uncle  Stephen  or  his  pupil 
bettor  enjoyed  the  hour  passed  in  spelling,  writing,  or 
^peaking  the  strange  tongue.  The  old  gentleman  was 
proud  of  his  own  skill  as  a  teacher,  and  he  was  still  more 
proiul  of  Edi ih's  success,  which  was  indeed  remarkable. 
He  looked  forward  with  intense  delight  to  the  time  when 


396  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

her  secret  snould  be  discovered,  and  many  were  the  plans 
made  and  rejected  for  bringing  it  to  light  when  the  proper 
moment  should  arrive.  iJtiring  the  summer  Gertrude  and 
Edith  found  full  occupation  for  their  needles,  in  the  pre- 
parations for  the  double  ceremony  which  was  to  take 
place  some  time  in  the  fall,  and  in  these  engagements 
they  found  efficient  assistance  from  their  mother  and 
Alice,  though  the  latter  spent  much  time  in  the  village, 
in  her  visits  among  the  poor.  She  had  long  before-  given 
up  her  equestrian  habits,  and  Clarence  had  purchased 
a  light  carriage,  in  which  she  could  drive  Felix,  who  was 
perfectly  tractable.  Minnie  Hay  den  had  commenced 
attending  an  infant  school,  and  might  be  seen  at  recess 
keeping  tight  hold  of  the  hand  of  her  little  friend,  Lizzy 
Gates,  T)ex*«r  leading  them  to  and  from  school. 


CHAPTER    XXXIJ. 

"  I  venerate  the  man  whose  heart  is  warm, 

Whose  hands  are  pure,  whose  doctrine  and  whose  life 

Coincident,  exhibit  lucid  proof 

That  he  is  honest  in  the  sacred  cause." — Cowper. 

IN  the  month  of  August  Alfred  arrived  from  New 
Haven,  having  completed  his  theological  course.  Edith 
had  long  wished  to  visit  Planesville,  to  render  in  per- 
son her  thanks  to  the  kind  woman  who  had  befriended 
her  on  a  former  occasion  ;  and  Alfred  accompanied  her 
there.  Miss  Edith  Carey,  with  her  brilliant  complexion, 
her  large  eyes,  beaming  with  a  mellowed  light,  her  luxu- 
riant black  hair,  twisted  like  a  coronal  around  her  brow, 
appeared  wholly  unlike  the  insane  wanderer  whose  pale, 
haggard  face,  whose  wildly  gleaming  eyes,  and  dishevelled 
locks  had  so  frightened  the  country-woman,  by  her  sud- 
den appearance.  When  Mr.  Huntington,  after  numerous 
inquiries  for  the  retired  place,  drove  into  the  yard,  Edilh, 
who  remembered  nothing  of  the  persons  she  had  come 
to  visit,  saw  a  neatly  dressed  female  standing  before  a 
churn  in  the  open  shed,  while,  seated  on  a  braided  mat, 
near  her,  was  an  infant,  playing  with  a  basket  of  clothes- 
pins. 

At  the  imminent  danger  of  leaving  her  butter,  which 
had  just  begun  "  to  come,"  to  turn  back  to  cream,  the 

o4  397 


398  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

farmer's  wife  left  her  churning,  and  advanced  to  the  dooi 
to  welcome  her  visitors.  She  rather  hesitated,  as  shfc 
saw  they  were  strangers,  but  supposing  they  might  wish 
to  purchase  butter  or  cream,  she  stood,  while  they  de- 
scended from  the  carriage,  modestly  awaiting  them. 
Edith  cordially  advanced,  and  presented  her  hand,  say- 
ing, as  she  did  so  :  "  Is  this  Mrs.  Goodwin  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,''  she  replied,  dropping  a  courtesy. 

"  I  see  you  do  not  remember  me,"  continued  Edith, 
smiling,  though  rather  sadly ;  "  and  yet  I  have  visited 
you  and  passed,  at  least,  one  night  under  your  roof, 
which,  if  I  have  been  rightly  informed,  deprived  you  of 
your  rest,  so  that  you  were  obliged  to  hold  your  infant 
in  your  arms  until  morning." 

"  Can  it  be  possible  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Goodwin,  having 
surveyed,  from  head  to  foot,  the  tall,  elegantly  dressed 
lady  before  her.  "  No,"  she  added,  as  if  speaking  to  her- 
self, "  the  sick  girl  was  very  unlike  this  one." 

"  But  I  am  the  very  one  of  whom  you  took  such  kind 
care,  and  if  you  will  allow  us  to  walk  in,  I  will  soon 
convince  you  of  it." 

With  many  blushes  and  apologies  for  her  impoliteness 
in  allowing  them  to  stand  at  the  door,  Mrs.  Goodwin  invi- 
ted them  into  her  neat,  cool  apartment,  which,  as  formerly, 
answered  the  double  purpose  of  sitting  and  sleeping 
rooms.  Hastily  shaking  up  the  feathers  in  a  small,  red- 
covered  cushion,  which  graced  the  wooden  rocking-chair, 
and  pushing  it  toward  Edith,  the  hostess  begged  her 
vi^itOAs  to  make  themselves  at  home,  and  she  would  call 
Joshua  to  put  up  the  horse. 

The  room,  from  having  been   shut  np  since  sunrise, 


IN  Dtsnrrs!;.  399 


was  deliciously  rool,  the  thick  paper  shades  keeping 
out  almost  every  ray  of  light.  Edith  seated  herself,  and 
laid  aside  her  bonnet,  much.  pleased  with  the  situation  in 
which  she  found  herself,  sheltered  so  completely  from  the 
scorching  rays  of  the  sun.  It  was  some  time  before  her 
eyes  became  enough  accustomed  to  the  darkness  to  see 
what  the  room  contained.  In  one  corner  stood  a  low 
bedstead,  made  up  very  round  and  high,  showing  plainly 
there  was  no  stint  of  feathers  in  its  manufacture.  This 
was  covered  with  a  gayly-colored  patchwork  quilt,  upon 
which  much  taste  had  been  expended  in  the  arrangement 
of  the  figures.  By  its  side  stood  a  chest,  of  drawers,  the 
top  neatly  covered  with  a  snow-white  napkin,  while  a 
family  Bible,  eased  in  brown  cambric,  lay  upon  it.  Just 
above  the  Bible  hung  a  small  mirror,  ornamented  with 
green  feathery  asparagus,  with  its  bright-red  berries,  —  a 
pitcher  filled  with  the  same,  also  stood  in  the  chimney- 
corner.  A  table,  upon  which  lay  a  few  select  and  well- 
preserved  books,  together  with  half  a  dozen  chairs  com- 
pleted the  survey.  Nothing  could  have  better  proved 
the  change  in  Edith  to  be  radical,  than  to  mark  the  ex- 
pression of  her  countenance  as  her  eye  rested,  first  upon 
one  article,  then  upon  another,  in  the  simple  apartment. 
Formerly  she  would  have  regarded  the  whole  with  su- 
preme contempt,  or  as  so  far  beneath  her  as  to  be  un- 
worthy to  excite  any  other  feeling  than  profound  indif- 
ference ;  but  now,  in  the  Bible,  so  neatly  covered,  and 
reveren'ly  placed,  she  read  the  characters  of  her  host  and 
hostess,  as  lovers  of  the  sacred  truths  it  contained,  as 
fellow-travellers,  looking  forward  with  herself  to  tho  same 


400  THE     HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

blessed  home  in  the  skies,  and  she  felt  bound  to  them  by 
the  strongest  lies  of  Christian  affection. 

At  the  sound  of  a  man's  voice  speaking  to  the  norse, 
as  he  drove  to  the  well-stored  barn,  Mr.  Huntington  had 
stepped  out  to  say  that  it  would  not  be  worth  the  while- 
to  unharness,  as  their  stay  would  be  very  short,  But  the 
hospitable  host,  would  not  consent  to  such  an  arrange- 
ment. His  wife  had  told  him,  in  a  word,  who  had  come, 
and  he  \vas  proud  to  show  them  that  they  were  welcome. 
He  now  entered,  in  company  with  Alfred,  to  be  intro- 
duced to  the  lady,  and  was  immediately  followed  by  his 
wife,  who,  after  summoning  a  boy  from  the  garden  to 
finish  the  churning,  had  hastily  arranged  her  own  toilet, 
by  re-smoothing  her  hair,  and  tying  on  a  clean,  white 
apron,  and  now  came  in  to  add  her  earnest  invitation  to 
that  of  her  husband,  that  their  visitors  would  remain 
through  the  day,  and  ride  home  in  the  cool  of  the  even- 
ing. Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Goodwin  were  so  earnest  in 
their  desire  to  entertain  the  young  lady  toward  whom 
they  felt  such  an  interest,  that  neither  she  nor  her  friend 
could  well  refuse,  and  Edith  consented,  on  the  condition 
that  their  hostess  would  not  allow  their  coming  to  in- 
terrupt her  duties. 

"  La  sakes!''  exclaimed  Joshua,  "  wife  don't  have  sut  n 
a  sight  o'  company  that  she  can't  afford  to  give  up  one 
day  to  entertaining  of  'em,  and  I  a'n't  at  all  driv  with 
work  now;  'twill  be  a  treat  to  both  on  us." 

The  boy  at  this  moment  put  in  his  head  at  the  door, 
apparently  to  make  the  announcement :  "  Miss  Good- 
win, your  butter's  come  as  hard  as  shot,"  —  but, 
,  to  take  a  survey  of  the  new  arrival ;  and  Edith 


IN    DISGUISE.  401 

begged  leave  to  accompany  her  to  the  shed,  where  they 
had  seen  her  at  work.  This  shed  was  attached  to  the 
house,  opening  from  the  kitchen,  and  had  large  doors  on 
cither  side,  so  that  there  was  a  fine  draught  of  air  through 
it.  Mrs.  Goodwin  brought  out  the  rocking-chair,  and 
placed  it  in  the  most  comfortable  situation,  while  Mr. 
Huntington  followed  his  host  to  the  door,  where  they 
were  shell ered  from  the  sun,  and  sat  down  upon  the 
steps. 

"  This  is  the  coolest  place,  Edith,  I've  found  to-day," 
he  said,  looking  back  into  the  room  ;  "  I  ought  not  to 
complain  of  the  heat,"  he  added,  addressing  the  fanner 
by  his  side,  "for  I  was  born  under  a  hotter  sun  than  you 
ever  saw." 

"  Du  tell,  now  ;  where  was  it  ?  "  asked  his  companion, 
eagerly. 

"  In ,  about  fifty  miles  north  of  Calcutta,  in  the 

East  Indies." 

"  Sakes  alive !  "  exclaimed  Joshua,  with  awe,  while 
his  wife  dropped  back  into  the  butter-milk  the  ball  of 
butter  which  she  had  been  dexterously  working  with  two 
vooden  spoons. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Alfred,  "my  father  is  a  missionary, 
laboring  among  the  Hindoos,  and  Miss  Carey  and  I  are 
hoping  soon  to  join  them,  and  spend  our  lives  in  trying 
to  biing  them  to  a  knowledge  of  Christ." 

"  Then  you're  missionaries  ! "  exclaimed  Joshua  and 
his  wife,  in  a  breath,  and  looking  earnestly  from  one  to 
another. 

"  Yes,"  said  Edith,  softly,  "  \ve  hope  to  be.  Chough  I 
know  I  am  not  worthy."  This  remark  was  added  from 
34* 


402 


Tin:   HOUSEHOLD 


observing  the  intense  surprise  manifes  ed  in  the  an- 
nouncement, and  entirely  mistaking  the  cause.  Slit 
knew  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Goodwin  had  seen  her  under 
the  most  unfavorable  circumstances,  and  well  know- 
ing that  they  could  not  be  aware  of  the  entire 
renovation  of  her  character,  she  thought,  they  would 
naturally  consider  her  very  unfit  for  the  station  to  which 
she  aspired. 

But  nothing  could  have  been  further  from  the  truth, 
and,  indeed,  as  Mrs.  Goodwin  took  her  apron,  and  wiped 
her  eyes  with  the  back  of  her  hand,  she  would  have  been 
puzzled  to  explain  her  own  feelings,  so  fluttered  was  she 
at  the  unexpected  pleasure  and  honor  of  seeing  real 
missionaries,  of  speaking  with  them  and  of  even  enter- 
taining them  under  her  humble  roof.  She  had  heard  a  great 
deal  about  missions  and  missionaries,  from  the  pulpit ; 
and  her  mother,  who  lived  in  a  neighboring  town,  occa- 
sionally sent  her  papers  containing  missionary  intelli- 
gence. She  and  her  husband  always  laid  by  a  small 
sum,  from  their  earnings,  to  be  sent  to  the  heathen  ;  but 
the  idea  of  ever  knowing  a  missionary,  of  hearing  from 
his  own  lips,  about  the  great  work  in  which  he  was  en- 
gaged, was  so  much  above  and  beyond  her  expectations, 
that  she  found  it  difficult  to  realize  her  own  good  for- 
tune. Then  there  came  welling  up  a  feeling  of  pride  as 
ehe  thought  of  the  interest  she  should  create  by  relating 
to  her  mother,  friends,  and  neighbor?,  and  even  to  her 
good  minister,  the  honor  which  had  been  conferred  upon 
her.  All  these  thoughts  rushed  so  quickly  through  her 
mind  that  she  was  not  aware  how  earnestly  she  ga/ed  at 
one,  and  then  another,  utterly  unmindful  of  the  task  be- 
'ore  her 


IN    DISGUISE.  403 

Poor  Joshua  sat  awkwardly  twirling  his  thumbs,  and 
looking  very  much  confused.  If  he  had  been  told  that 
the  gentleman  sitting  on  the  stone  step  by  his  side,  was 
the  rich  Squire  Barstow,  from  New  Yorkyof  whom  he  had 
heard  so  much,  or  the  famous  lawyer,  C — ,  from  Boston, 
he  would  not  have  felt  embarrassed,  for  he  was  an  inde- 
pendent, true-hearted  American  farmer,  owing  no  man 
anything,  and  rejoicing  in  his  liberty  to  think  and  act  for 
himself.  But  to  have  talked  so  freely  with  a  missionary. 
to  be  sitting  there,  on  the  back  stoop,  with  a  man  who 
was  going  to  leave  all  his  friends  and  home,  to  take  his 
life  in  his  hands  and  go  forth  to  dwell  among  heathen, 
the  ignorant,  deluded  heathen,  amidst  all  the  discomforts 
of  a  barbarous  state,  to  look  forward  cheerfully  to  it,  for 
the  sake  of  his  divine  Master — this,  in  his  opinion,  so 
elevated  and  ennobled  his  guest,  and  rendered  the  em- 
ployment in  which  he  had  heretofore  prided  himself 
BO  humble,  from  the  contrast,  that,  for  a  time,  he  had 
not  a  word  to  say.  At  length,  he  sighed  heavily,  as 
he  exclaimed:  "Wife,  1  guess  this  ere  gentleman  and 
lady  better  go  in  to  their  room,  while  I  go  out  and  water 
the  horse  agin;  I  didn't  gin  him  much,  he  was  so  warm." 

"  It  isn't  necessary,  yet,"  responded  Mr.  Iluntington, 
laying  his  hand  gently  on  the  man's  arm,  as  he  was 
rising  from  his  seat;  "and  you  certainly  wouldn't  wish 
to  exclude  us  from  the  enjoyment  of  this  fine  breeze j 
Edith,"  he  added,  addressing  her  gayly,  to  give  him  time 
to  recover  himself,  "  this  will  be  a  good  opportunity  for 
you  to  learn  to  make  butter.  All  we  shall  have  will  be 
of  our  own  making.  At  any  rate,  from  what  I  can  re- 


404 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 


member  of  the  ^ant  of  neatness  among  the  natives,  1 
should  hardly  relish  butter  worked  by  them." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  boy  coining, 
from  the  barn  with  the  fat  baby  asleep  in  his  arms.  He 
had  been  dismissed  there  to  amuse  her  with  the  chick- 
ens until  her  mother  could  be  at  liberty  to  attend  to  her. 
The  faimer  took  her  with  a  tenderness  and  skill  which 
proved  him  to  be  not  wholly  unused  to  such  business, 
and  laid  her  upon  the  bed ;  then,  having  watered  the 
horse,  he  returned  to  his  seat  to  listen  with  great  interest 
to  the  conversation  which  was  going  on  in  the  shed. 

Mrs.  Goodwin  had  now  recovered  the  use  of  her 
tongue  ;  and,  while  she  rapidly  advanced  to  the  comple- 
tion of  her  business,  she  asked  innumerable  questions 
relative  to  Alfred's  early  days  and  their  future  life,  think- 
ing that,  as  she  had  such  an  opportunity  to  hear  about 
that  which  so  much  interested  her,  'twould  be  extremely 
foolish  to  waste  it.  Having  motioned  the  boy,  who 
stood  by  her  side,  to  carry  thje  wooden  tray  of  golden- 
colored  balls  to  the  cellar,  she  brought  from  a  closet  two 
glasses  of  rich  milk  for  her  guests,  which  Alfred  declared 
was  a  fit  treat  for  a  queen.  She  moved  about  noise- 
lessly, putting  away  dishes,  and  preparing  for  dinner, 
her  absorbing  interest  in  the  subject  discussed  rendering 
her  wholly  forgetful  of  the  awkwardness  of  doing  so  in 
the  presence  of  strangers ;  and,  before  any  of  them  were 
aware,  the  table  in  the  kitchen  was  spread  with  a  neatly 
fringed  cloth  from  her  best  drawer,  and  covered  with  * 
most  tempting  repast.  Though  the  dishes  happened  to 
be  common  delft  ware,  and  set  on  without  regard  to  the 
latest  style,  of  which  she  was  wholly  ignorant,  yet  the 


ix  DisurisE.  40-") 


young  missionaries  did  their  hostess's  cookery  ample 
justice.  There  was  white  bread  and  brown  bread  of  the 
finest  quality,  a  generous  cake  of  butter  stamped  in  the 
form  of  a  large  oak-leaf,  a  dish  of  preserved  strawber- 
ries, fresh  currants,  custard  and  dried  apple  pies,  cheese 
both  common  and  sage,  with  a  plentiful  supply  of  milk 
for  drink. 

Edith  as  well  as  Alfred  were  hearty  in  their  praise  ; 
the  latter  much  delighted  the  good  woman  by  saying, 
"  We  shall  often  think  of  your  hospitable  board  and  cor- 
dial welcome  when  we  are  thousands  of  miles  distant." 

After  dinner  Edith  asked  Alfred  to  repeat  a  few 
phrases,  that  their  kind  friends  might  hear  the  sound  of 
his  native  tongue.  He  laughed,  as  he  complied,  to  see 
the  open-mouthed  astonishment  with  which  they  listened. 
The  boy,  who  was  now  eating  his  dinner,  dropped  his 
knife  and  fork  to  hear. 

"  Can  you  understand  such  lingo  ?  "  asked  Joshua  ol 
Edith.     "  It  don't  seem  as  if  it  can  mean  anything." 

She  replied  by  repeating  very  rapidly,  as  if  by  rote,  a 
sentence  he  had  taught  her  during  his  first  visit  to  the 
Hall.  It  was  now  her  turn  to  laugh,  as  Alfred  started  in 
surprise.  "  You  didn't  think  I  had  so  retentive  a  mem- 
ory, I  suppose,"  she  added,  archly.  "  Don't  you  remem- 
ber when  you  taught  me  that  ?  Translate  it  for  them." 
"  It  is  one  petition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,"  returned 
Alfred,  and  he  repeated  the  whole,  in  Tamul.  "  I  well 
remember  the  pleasure  my  father  and  mother  experienced 
when  the  small  class  of  boys  and  girls  in  the  mission 
school  repeated  that  prayer  through  in  unison,  and 


406  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

seemed  to  understand  its  import.  Mother  said  it  repaid 
her  for  all  the  trials  they  had  passed  through." 

The  baby  now  awoke,  and  called  loudly  for  attention. 
Mrs.  Goodwin  went  to  her,  and,  after  half  an  hour, 
returned  with  the  young  miss  dressed  out  in  her  best,  to 
see  the  company.  She  was  not  at  all  afraid,  and  went 
willingly  to  Edith. 

"  What  is  her  name  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  am  ashamed  to  tell  you,"  replied  her  mother,  "  lhat 
she  has  none  but  Baby.  We  keep  putting  it  off,  and 
she's  nine  months  old  without  our  having  fixed  upon 
one." 

"  I'll  give  her  a  name,"  said  Alfred,  coming  toward 
them  —  "  Edith  Huntington.  You  couldn't  have  a  pret- 
tier," he  added,  smiling,  as  he  saw  the  burning  blush 
which  covered  Edith's  face. 

"  We'll  do  it !  "  they  both  exclaimed  ;  "  that  is,"  hesi- 
tated  the  mother,  looking  at  Edith,  "  if  it's  agreeable  to 
her." 

The  young  lady  replied  by  imprinting  a  fervent  kiss 
upon  its  brow ;  and  so  the  important  matter,  which  had 
caused  such  earnest  discussion  in  the  long  winter  even- 
ings was  settled,  and  the  little  cherub  was  Baby  no 
longer,  but  Miss  Edith  Huntington  Goodwin. 

"  I  must  have  a  kiss,  Miss  Edith,  for  giving  you  so 
good  a  name,"  and  Alfred  bent  down  to  the  child. 
•'  When  I  get  to  India,  I  shall  be  sure  to  send  you  some 
bangles,  that  you  may  never  forget  you  were  named  for 
a  missionary." 

"  How  would  you  like  to  go  and  live  among  the  hea- 
then, and  teach  them  to  be  good  ?  "  inquired  Edith  of 


I 

IN    DISGUISE.  40" 

the  boy,  \vlio  stood  near  them,  eagerly  listening  to  a!) 
(hat  passed. 

The  lad  held  down  his  head,  and  began  making  fig- 
ares  on  the  floor  with  his  bare  toes.  But,  long  years  after, 
(hat  question  sounded  in  his  ears;  and,  though  he  di»: 
flot  become  a  missionary,  yet  his  heart  was  warmly  en- 
gaged in  the  work,  and  he  was  ever  ready  to  bestow  his 
mite  in  the  good  cause. 

About  four  o'clock,  Edith,  having  taken  an  affectionate 
(eavc  of  her  little  namesake,  started  with  Alfred  for 
home,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Goodwin  following  them  to  the 
gate,  and  with  moistened  eyes  bade  them  farewell.  They 
never  forgot  that  visit ;  and  the  words  of  the  young 
missionary  at  parting,  "  Though  you  may  not  be  called 
to  go  into  foreign  lands  to  labor  for  the  salvation  of  the 
heathen,  yet  there  will  always  be  work  for  Christians  at 
home,  while  there  are  souls  to  be  won  to  Christ,"  sank 
deep  into  their  hearts. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

'•*  Oh,  married  love  !  each  heart  shall  own, 

Where  two  congenial  souls  unite, 
Thy  golden  chains  inlaid  with  down, 

Thy  lamp  with  heaven's  own  splendor  bright." 

Lanr/hotne. 

"  Thou  art  the  nurse  of  virtue.     In  thine  arms 
She  smiles,  appearing,  as  in  truth  she  is, 
Heaven-born,  and  destined  to  the  skies  again." 

Cowper. 

THE  months  of  August  and  September  passed  rapidly 
away.  The  letters  of  Mr.  Henderson  were  more  and 
more  urgent  -for  Gertrude  to  appoint  the  day  of  their 
marriage,  which  had  been  from  time  to  time  postponed 
on  account  of  the  uncertainty  of  Alfred's  movements ; 
and  one  evening,  when  the  family  were  at  tea,  he  sud- 
denly joined  them,  saying  that  he  did  not  intend  to  leave 
without  a  bride.  After  tea.  he  requested  an  interview 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stanley,  where  he  plead  his  cause  so 
earnestly,  that,  as  the  arrangements  of  Alfred  were  un- 
certain, so  that  the  time  of  the  marriage  conld.not  be 
fixed,  and  as  there  really  was  no  good  reason  why  the 
ardent  lover  should  have  his  patience  longer  tested,  the 
parents  gave  their  consent  that  the  wedding  should  take 
place  the  following  week. 

"  I'll  leave  it  with  you,"  said  Marion,  "  to  prevail  with 
her.  I  rather  fear  her  consent  to  such  hasty  movements 

408 


THE    HOUSEIJOi»    ANGF.i,    IN    DISGUISE.  409 

will  be  more  difficult  to  obtain  ; "  and  so  the  discom 
fited  lover  thought,  when,  at  the  end  of  half  an  hour  of 
eloquent  arguing,  which  he  insisted  would  have  carried 
any  jury  in  the  land,  he  had  made  no  advance  in  hid 
suit.  Gertrude  only  laughed  at  him,  and  said  it  made 
her  catch  her  breath  to  think  of  the  bustle  that  would  be 
necessary. 

Mr.  Henderson  felt  aggrieved,  and,  giving  her  a  sad, 
reproaching  glance,  he  left  the  room,  and  retired  at  once 
to  his  chamber.  Marion  met  him  on  the  stairs,  but  he 
passed  her  in  silence,  and  she  went  to  her  daughter  to 
obtain  an  explanation. 

When  the  young  girl  went  up,  at  a  late  hour,  to  her 
own  room,  she  heard  a  step  in  her  lover's  chamber,  and 
paused  a  moment  to  listen.  He  was  walking  back  and 
forth  across  the  floor,  and  the  poor  girl  acknowledged  to 
herself  that  she  had  decided  too  hastily.  Her  mother 
had  been  conversing  with  her  upon  the  subject,  and, 
though  pained  at  the  thought  of  parting  with  her,  yet 
advised  her  to  consent  to  his  wishes,  and  be  married 
before  his  return. 

The  next  morning,  when  Mr.  Henderson,  grave  and 
sad,  appeared  below,  Gertrude,  who  was  anxiously  await- 
ing him,  put  a  tiny  note  into  his  hand.  He  needed  but 
a  single  look  at  her  downcast  eyes  and  rosy  cheeks  —  but 
one  quick  glance  at  the  delicate  penmanship,  to  drive 
away  all  his  gloom,  and  he  was  Charley  again. 

When   Gertrude  consented   to  his  wishes,  she  did  it 
svith  a  good  grace ;  and  her  lover  whispered  again  and 
again  in  her  ear,  "  In  everything  else,  dear  Gerty,  you 
shall  have  your  own  way." 
35 


410  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

At  her  special  request,  the  wedding  was  to  be  private ; 
but  she  devoted  two  entire  days  of  the  short  time  left 
her,  to  farewell  calls  upon  her  friends. 

The  day  after  Gertrude's  departure,  Dr.  Jenks  called 
to  invite  the  family  to  a  wedding  at  his  house.  Maurice 
had  arrived  a  few  days  before,  and  was  to  sail  in  a  fort- 
night or  three  weeks  for  Liverpool.  The  old  gentleman 
was  in  high  spirits,  as  well  as  in  great  haste,  but  begged 
all  the  family  to  honor  the  young  people  by  being 
present.  This  they  readily  promised.  The  good  clergy- 
man, Mr.  Badger,  was  certainly  reaping  a  golden  harvest. 
He  appeared  at  the  doctor's,  and  looked  around  in  smil- 
ing complaisance  upon  the  party  assembled.  Soon  Mau- 
rice entered  with  Amy ;  and  all  were  impressed  with  hei 
loveliness  as  she  gave  her  hand  trustingly  into  the  keep- 
ing  of  her  husband.  The  young  sailor  uttered  the  re- 
sponses with  a  fervor  which  called  forth  many  smiles, 
and,  as  soon  as  the  ceremony  was  through,  imprinted  a 
kiss  upon  her  lips.  Then  followed  the  congratulations, 
the  cake,  and  the  partings,  during  which  both  the  bride 
and  groom  came  in  for  their  full  share  of  praise.  Mau- 
rice promised  to  accompany  his  wife  to  Lindenwood 
before  he  sailed.  He  had  brought  home  the  highest 
recommendations  from  his  captain,  who  was 'exceedingly 
anxious  to  retain  him  in  the  ship  he  commanded.  The 
vessel  was  now  going  out  to  Liverpool  for  a  short  voy- 
age ;  and  he  confidently  expected  to  be  at  home  again 
by  March. 

Uncle  Stephen  presented  Gertrude,  his  niece,  with  the 
same  sum  which  he  had  given  to  Emma,  saying,  "  I 
didn't  meaii  you  should  lose  anything  by  it,  when  you 


IN    DISGUISE.  411 

acted  so  nobly  by  Alice.  The  old  gentleman  was  no\v 
meditating  whether  it  would  be  better  for  Alfred  to  take 
advantage  of  a  merchant  vessel  about  to  sail  for  Cal- 
cutta, or  to  wait  until  spring,  that  he  might  have  the  ben- 
efit of  a  course  of  medical  lectures  in  Philadelphia.  The 
latter  was  at  length  decided  upon,  and  Edith  was  left  at 
Lindenwood  for  the  winter.  She  applied  herself  with 
great  diligence  to  her  studies,  and  really  surprised  her 
teacher  by  the  aptness  she  displayed  for  the  acquisition 
of  the  language.  From  talking  with  one  who  had  lived 
so  long  in  India,  her  pronunciation  was  remarkably  per- 
fect. 

When  Maurice  called  with  Amy,  he  informed  his 
friends  that  his  ship  was  not  to  sail  for  another  week, 
which  he  considered  uncommonly  good  fortune.  When 
he  arose  to  take  leave,  he  approached  Edith,  and  said, 
with  some  emotion,  "  Though  I  suppose  1  may  stand  a 
better  chance  of  seeing  you  than  some  others,  as  I  fre- 
quently make  voyages  to  Calcutta  ;  yet  we  may  never 
meet  again.  I  wish  you  great  prosperity,  wherever  you 
may  go." 

The  unbidden  tears  gushed  to  Edith's  eyes  at  this  un- 
expected benediction,  and,  giving  him  her  hand,  she  said, 
"  Life  is  always  uncertain.  I  may  never  be  permitted 
to  reach  a  foreign  shore.  You  may  never  return  to  your 
native  land ;  but  let  us  strive  to  live  in  such  a  manner 
that  we  shall  not  fail  to  reach  our  heavenly  home." 

How  many  times,  in  after  years,  were  these  words  re- 
called to  mind ! 

The  young  sailor  bowed  over  Edith's  hand  to  conceal 


412  ri!K     HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

a  tear,  uttered  a  fervent  "  Thank   you,  Edith ; "  thei. 

turned  to  leave  the  room. 

****** 

It  was  mid  winter.  The  thermometer  outside  the 
door  stood  four  degrees  below  zero,  and  the  appearance 
of  passers  by  hurrying  at  full  speed,  with  buffalo  robes 
carefully  tucked  around  them,  while  the  panting  horses 
emitted  at  every  breath  a  full  puff  of  steam,  bore  evi- 
dence to  the  biting,  frosty  atmosphere.  But  in  doors  at 
Lindenwood,  the  air  was  warm  and  balmy  as  June.  A 
powerful  furnace  in  fhe  cellar  sent  its  genial  warmth 
through  every  part  of  the  house,  and,  in  addition  to  this, 
a  large  wood  fire  blazed  cheerfully  upon  the  hearth  in  the 
parlor.  But  it  is  not  the  parlor  to  which  we  would  intro- 
duce you  this  morning.  In  the  spacious  room  above  it, 
the  heavy  damask  curtains  are  draped  from  the  bay  win- 
dow, to  exclude  the  least  particle  of  air  ;  but  in  the  win- 
dow facing  the  south,  a  full  flood  of  light  from  the  sun 
is  pouring  in.  Drawn  up  before  the  cheerful  fire  is  the 
large  easy  chair,  mentioned  on  a  former  occasion,  and  in 
it  is  seated  its  former  occupant,  pale  and  languid,  it  is 
true,  but  with  eyes  as  bright,  and  mouth  as  sweetly 
wreathed  in  smiles  as  of  old.  Uncle  Stephen  and  Clar- 
ence are  standing  near,  looking  first  at  her  and  then  at  a 
tiny  roll  of  flannel  lying  across  the  lap  of  her  mother, 
who  is  seated  in  a  low  rocking-chair,  close  to  the  fire. 
Alice  often  gazes  at  the  same  small  object  with  a  shade 
of  anxiety  crossing  her  brow,  until  an  old  lady,  who  seems 
very  much  at  home,  and  whom  we  speedily  recognize  as 
Nurse  Green,  says,  "  La,  Miss  Alice !  don't  go  to  worry- 
ing about  the  baby.  It's  only  the  snuffles  he's  got,  ar<J 


IN    ntSGUISE.  41 U 

they  wont   hurt   him  while  lie  can  eat  and  sleep  like  a 
young  Trojan,  as  he  does  now." 

"  I  hope  it  won't  last  long,"  said  Alice,  in  reply,  "  it 
seems  to  make  him  uneasy." 

A  low  tap  is  heard  at  the  door,  and  Edith  enters,  ask- 
ing, "  May  I  come  ?  " 

She  advances  toward  the  young  mother,  and  kisses  her 
pale  cheek,  at  the  same  time  expressing  her  joy  to  see  her 
once  more  in  her  old  seat. 

This  morning  is  a  great  occasion  with  all  the  family, 
for  Alice  has  arisen  from  her  bed  for  the  first  time,  though 
the  little  boy  lying  asleep  in  the  lap  of  his  young  grand- 
mother is  nearly  seven  weeks  old.  She  has  been  very 
feeble  for  two  or  three  months,  and  there  was  a  time 
when  the  kind,  sympathizing  physician  turned  abruptly 
away  from  the  inquiries  of  the  agonized  husband  and  the 
anxious  father,  or  only  answered  with  a  moistened  eye, 
"  How  can  I  be  expected  to  tell  what  will  be  the  result  ? 
I  \\ish  you  wouldn't  ask  questions.  No  one  but  God 
can  answer." 

For  the  last  ten  days  the  invalid  had  rallied,  and  the 
doctor  had  resumed  his  usual  warmth  and  frankness 
of  manner.  Alice  exhibited  a  sweetness  of  temper  and 
patience  in  suffering,  which  endeared  her,  if  possible, 
more  than  ever  to  her  family.  In  two  things  only  was 
she  very  decided.  One  was,  to  nurse  her  babe  herself 
the  other,  that  the  new  comer  should  bear  the  name  of 
Stephen  Forsyth.  "  I  am  decided,  dear  Uncle,  on  that 
point,"  she  said,  as  the  good  old  man  with  a  noble  spirit  of 
sell-sacrifice,  begged  her  to  call  it  by  some  more  modern 
iiame.  "  I  shall  love  the  little  fellow  just  as  well,"  he 
35* 


414  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGKL 

urged,  "  if  you  call  him  anything  else,  and  shall  always 
remember  that  you  thought  of  me  first.'1 

Alice  pressed  the  old  man's  hand  to  her  pale  lips,  as 
she  added,  "  His  name  is  Stephen.  I  only  wish  it  could 
be  Uncle  Stephen,  and  I  shall  love  it  better  than  all  the 
fine  names  to  be  found  in  the  dictionary." 

"  Well,  child,"  said  the  gratified  uncle,  smiling  through 
his  tears,  "  you  always  did  have  your  own  way  with 
me." 

But  we  will  return  to  the  pleasant  group  before  the 
fire,  who  are  now  joined  by  the  doctor  and  Mr.  Stanley. 
After  examining  the  pulse  of  his  patient.  Dr.  Jenks  said, 
gaily,  "  As  free  from  fever  as  I  am.  Now  we'll  soon 
build  you  up.  Squire  Sydney,  did  you  send  to  New 
York  for  some  of  that  bitter  stuff  1  mentioned  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Clarence,  "  I  succeeded  in  getting  some 
of  the  very  best." 

"  Well,  send  for  a  bottle.  Nurse,  you  have  water  and 
sugar  here,  I  see." 

Clarence  rang  the  bell,  and  a  servant  soon  brought  a 

O  '  O 

bottle  from  which  the  doctor  poured  a  few  teaspoon fuls 
into  a  goblet,  put  in  bountifully  of  sugar  and  filled  the 
glass  with  water.  He  stirred  and  sipped,  putting  in  a  lit- 
tlo  more  from  the  bottle,  and  a  little  more  sugar,  until  he 
had  fixed  it  just  to  his  liking.  "  There,  Mrs.  Alice  !  "  he 
exclaimed,  holding  it  to  her  lips,  "  drink  every  drop  of  it." 

"  It  is  very  disagreeable  to  me,"  said  Alice,  laughing 
as  the  doctor  stood  watching  her. 

"  Can't  help  it;  down  with  it,  or  I'm  thinking  Master 
Stephen  will  have  to  go  hungry." 

"  Is  it  good  for  him  ? "  inquired  the  young  mother 
eagerly. 


IN    DISGUISE.  415 

"  Good  for  him  ?  yes.  It'll  make  him  grow  as  fat  as  a 
porpoise.  'Twill  make  him  sleep,  too,  and  be  good- 
natured. 

Alice  put  the  glass  resolutely  to  her  lips,  and  drained 
it. 

"  Bravo !  "  laughed  the  good  man  ;  "  touched  the  right 
chord,"  he  added,  in  a  loud  whisper,  to  Clarence.  "  There, 
Nurse,  you  saw  how  I  mixed  it.  She  must  take  that 
whole  bottle  full  in  three  days  at  farthest.  Give  her  a 
glass  three  or  four  times  a  day.  Perhaps  she'd  like  a 
cracker  with  it.  She'll  be  calling  for  it  herself  by  to- 
morrow." 

He  was  about  turning  to  leave  the  room,  when  Alice 
called,  "  Doctor,  you  havn't  looked  at  the  baby." 

"'Well,  he's  no  great  sight.  What  should  I  look  at 
him  for." 

"  He  don't  breathe  well." 

The  doctor  bent  over  the  small  specimen  of  humanity 
and  put  his  ear  down  to  listen.  "  He's  well  enough,"  he 
replied,  rising.  "  Just  get  Nurse  to  rub  a  little  sweet  oil 
on  liis  nose,"  and  bowed  himself  out  of  the  room. 

It  was  very  certain  that  whoever  else  neglected  the  bab) 
(though  there  was  not  much  danger  of  that  at  present), 
Uncle  Stephen  would  not.  Twenty  times  in  an  hour  he 
turned  aside  the  blanket  with  which  its  small  face  was 
nearly  concealed,  and  listened,  to  be  sure  that  it  still 
breathed.  In  reading  his  papers  he  turned  them  with 
great  care,  lest  the  rustling  should  disturb  its  slumber,  and 
walked  about  as  noiselessly  as  possible. 

"  I  do  believe  Tneie  Stephen  thinks  Iliat  baby  is  his 
own '"  exclaimed  Edith,  one  day  after  li;ivin»  watched 


416  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

him  playing  to  the  child,  and  witnessed  his  joy,  when,  ir 
return  to  the  terms  of  endearment  lavished  upon  him,  the 
little  fellow  cooed  a  reply. 

c;  I  should  like  to  know,"  answered  the  old  gentleman, 
\vith  some  indignation,  "  whose  child  you  think  it  is,  if  it 
is  not  mine  ?  " 

Both  Edith  and  .Slice  laughed  heartily,  at  which  the 
baby  cooed  again. 

"  I  had  thought,"  said  the  former,  "  that  it  belonged  to 
AJice  and  Clarence  ;  but  —  " 

"  Clarence  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  child," 
continued  he,  in  a  loud  tone.  "  What  does  he,  a  boy, 
know  about  the  care  of  children  ?  I'll  venture  he  never 
had  it  in  his  arms  in  his  life." 

And  this  was  true.  The  young  father's  heart  was 
full  to  overflowing  with  gratitude  for  the  sweet  gift  from 
heaven.  He  never  entered  the  room,  or  left  it,  without  a 
peep  at  its  tiny  features  ;  but  he  had  been  exceedingly 
solicitous  concerning  the  health  of  his  beloved  wife,  and, 
when  he  was  at  home,  devoted  himself  almost  wholly  to 
her  comfort.  Never  having  even  seen  so  young  a  child, 
the  idea  of  trusting  himself  to  take  so  precious  a  treas- 
ure; into  his  arms,  had  never  once  entered  his  mind. 

When  Stephen  Forsyth,  Jr.,  was  two  months  old,  an 
immense  box  arrived  from  New  York  to  his  address. 
When  the  little  fellow  was  informed  of  it,  he  told  a  very 
long  story,  which  his  mother  perfectly  understood  to 
mean  that  he  wished  to  know  its  contents  without  delay. 
The  desire  was  instantly  complied  with,  and  forthwith 
there  came  from  the  huge  box  a  tiny  bathing-tub,  a  cn,- 
cLe,  or  rather  a  crib  upon  rockers,  with  delicately  wrought 


IN    DISGUISE.  417 

muslin  curtains  looped  above  it,  then  a  basket  of  toys,  of 
the  most  approved  style.  The  only  article  among  them 
which  excited  the  notice  of  the  young  gentleman,  was  a 
gutta  percha  ring,  which,  when  placed  in  his  hands,  he 
grasped  tightly,  and  thrust  it  at  once  into  his  mouth. 
"  Certainly,"  as  Uncle  Stephen  said,  "  It's  my  boy." 

In  February  Alfred  Huntington  came  on  to  accompany 
Edith  to  Baltimore,  where  she  had  been  earnestly  invited 
to  visit  Gertrude,  and  on  her  return  she  had  promised  to 
pass  a  few  weeks  with  Emma. 

Alfred  was  reluctant  to  be  away  from  his  studies,  and 
tarried  only  one  day.  In  the  evening,  when  all  the  fam- 
ily were  gathered  in  the  parlor,  Uncle  Stephen  turned  to 
Alfred,  and  asked  him,  in  Tamul,  "  Do  you  think  Edith 
can  ever  acquire  the  native  language  ? "  In  reply  he 
commenced,  "  It  is  said  to  be  extremely  difficult ;  but  she 
is  very  persevering,  and  —  " 

"  Take  care ! "  she  exclaimed  in  the  same  language, "  1 
hear."  Alfred  and  Clarence  started  in  surprise. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  continued,  archly.  "  What 
have  I  done  that  you  should  gaze  at  me  so  ?  " 

"  Done  !  "  repeated  Alfred,  "  I  believe  you  are  a  witch. 
Where  did  you  learn  Tamul  so  well  ?  " 

She  pointed  to  Uncle  Stephen,  who  rubbed  his  hands 
and  laughed  aloud.  "  She's  outwitted  you  this  time. 
She  can  read  and  write  as  well  as  you  can." 

"  Hardly  that,"  she  responded,  "  but  I  can  read  simple 
sentences." 

"  But  just  now  you  spoke  like  a  native." 

"  Ye^,  I  have  been  practising  those  sentences  for  BU 
months." 


418  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL. 

"  And  didn't  tell  me,"  said  Alfred,  with  a  reproachfu 
look. 

"  Never  mind,"  replied  Edith,  tenderly,  "  I  promise  you 
you'll  hear  enough  bye  and  bye.  1  shall  be  obliged  to 
tell  you,  or  keep  my  secrets  entirely  to  myself." 

The  whole  family  were  amazed  at  the  progress  she  had 
made,  though  she  persisted  in  attributing  all  her  success 
to  Uncle  Stephen,  and  he,  scarcely  able  to  contain  his 
joy,  walked  back  and  forth,  saying,  "  Yes,  I've  found  out 
at  last  what  I  am  good  for.  I  must  apply  for  a  professor- 
ship of  foreign  languages."  In  this  case  the  old  gentleman 
did  not  refuse  to  receive  the  praise  which  was  his  due. 


CHAPTER     XXXIV. 

Oh,  weep  not !  thy  loved  one  is  sweetly  sleeping 

Beneath  the  blue  ocean's  crested  wave, 
Where  low  surging  billows  are  ever  singing 

Their  requiem  round  his  pearly  grave. 
Loving  thoughts  of  thce  often  swelled  his  fond  heart 

As  homeward  he  plough'd  the  green  sea  foam, 
Till  called  by  his  Saviour  and  God  to  depart, 

To  the  land  of  the  blest  —  the  penitent's  home. 

IT  was  a  clear,  bright  morning  in  March.  The  weather 
had  been  bleak  and  windy,  but  now  the  sun  was  shining 
in  full  splendor,  as  if  to  make  amends  for  the  length  of 
time  during  which  he  had  hidden  his  face.  In  the  sunny 
kitchen  of  Dr.  Jenks,  there  was  evidently  some  great  oc- 
casion at  hand.  The  large  table  was  set  out  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  floor  —  the  place  it  had  hitherto  occupied  only 
during  the  preparations  for  thanksgiving. 

Before  it  stood  Mrs.  Jenks,  attired  in  a  wide  checked 
apron,  her  sleeves  rolled  up,  and  her  tongue' keeping  time 
with  the  rolling-pin,  with  which  she  was  dexterously 
transforming  the  flaky  paste  into  coverings  for  the  long 
row  of  pies  before  her.  Her  haste,  however,  did  not  pre- 
vent the  old  lady  from  giving  an  occasional  glance  up  the 
street,  which  she  could  see  for  some  distance.  "  Let  me 
think,"  she  soliloquized,  sticking  the  end  of  her  knife  into 
the  paste,  and  pausing  a  moment, "  there's  six  mince  and 
four  apple,  —  that  makes  ten,  —  to  be  covered.  Yes, 

419 


4*20  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

there's  enough  ;  "  and  she  hastened  again  with  her  work. 
"  Amy,  dear,  wont  you  just  open  the  door  of  the  oven  a 
minute  ?  I'm  afraid  it's  getting  too  hot.  What  time  did 
your  father  think  Maurice  would  be  here  ?" 

"  Not  before  noon,"  replied  the  young  wife,  after  com- 
plying with  the  request.  "  I'm  on  my  last  shirt,  and  they 
look  beautifully  too,"  she  exclaimed,  holding  one  up  for 
her  mother  to  admire. 

"  They  would  do  any  body  credit,  child ;  but  I'll  ven- 
ture  'twont  be  eleven  o'clock  before  he'll  be  here.  Now, 
don't  you  go  to  being  frightened,  if  he  jumps  out  from 
behind  the  door  any  minute,"  and  she  cast  an  anxious 
glance  at  the  young  wife.  "  You  know  he's  mighty  fond 
of  surprises,  and  don't  realize  how  dangerous  they  are  at 
rimes." 

"  Do  you  think  he  will  be  pleased  ?  "  asked  Amy,  in  a 
subdued  voice. 

"  Pleased,  child,  he'll  be  tickled  almost  out  of  his  wits. 
There,  I've  got  that  cover  too  small,"  and  she  glanced  for 
the  hundredth  time  at  the  clock. 

Amy  seemed  no  less  excited,  though  her  manner  of  ex- 
hibiting it  was  different.  Her  joy  was  too  intense  for 
many  words.  She  spread  the  six  new  shirts,  she  had 
made  for  her  husband  during  his  absence,  on  the  small 
clothes-horse,  placed  it  in  the  sitting-room,  out  of  the 
way,  and  then  assisted  to  put  the  pies  into  the  oven. 

"  Now,  Amy,"  said  the  mother,  "  if  you'll  beat  the 
eggs,  I'll  stir  up  a  Washington  pie,  and  fill  it  with 
that,  strawberry  jam,  he's  so  fond  of."  Just  at  this  mo- 
ment a  shadow  fell  upon  the  floor,  which  sent  the  blood 
wildly  through  Amy's  heart,  and  made  her  mother 


IN    DISGUISE. 

scream:  "Now   that's   too  bad,  Doctor;  I  do  say!"  as 
she  saw  i\  was  only  lier  husband  peeping  in  at  the  door. 

"  Not  come,  hey  ? "  said  the  Doctor,  trying  to  speak 
cheerfully.  "  Well,  I  told  you  he  couldn't  get  here  till 
twelve.  The  vessel  only  arrived  in  New  York  yester- 
day ;  and  he  couldn't  be  spared  at  once.  He  wont  spend 
much  idle  time  on  the  road,  you  may  depend."  Thia 
was  the  second  time  the  father,  impatient  to  welcome 
his  boy,  had  hurried  home  to  see  if  the  young  seaman 
had  arrived.  "  And  so  I  gave  you  a  start,  child,"  he 
said,  approaching  and  kissing  Amy.  "  Now,  you  just 
keep  yourself  cool,  or  I'll  get  wife  to  make  you  a  dose 
of  valerian  tea,"  and  he  hastened  away  to  his  patients 
again. 

An  hour  later  and  the  fragrant  pies  stood  arranged 
upon  the  table  ;  the  crust  baked  to  a  delicious  brown ; 
the  Washington  pie  was  cooling  before  it  could  be  filled 
with  .sweetmeats  ;  the  sponge  for  cakes  was  rising  upon 
the  hearth,  and  Mrs.  Jenks  stood  looking  around  her  with 
feelings  of  laudable  pride  that  her  efforts  had  been  so 
successful.  "  It  will  soon  be  time  to  put  in  the  meat," 
she  said  aloud,  walking  to  the  closet  where  Amy  had 
prepared  a  pan  of  vegetables.  There  were  peeled  tur- 
nips, a  nicely  washed  cabbage,  beets  and  potatoes.  "  I 
sha'n't  calculate,"  she  added,  "to  have  dinner  much  be- 
fore two  ;  but  I'll  put  the  beets  into  the  pot,  and  then 
change  my  cap." 

In  the  meantime  her  son's  wife  had  been  employed  in 
sweeping  and  dusting ;  her  own  room  receiving  especial 
cure,  and  a  pair  of  newly  embroidered  slippers  being 
Dlaced  in  a  conspicuous  position.  She  opened  one 

36. 


42'2  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

drawer  after  another  to  see  if  all  were  ready,  and  almost 
hoped  to  find  something  more  to  do  for  the  dear  one 
who  was  momentarily  expected.  But  no,  the  delightful 
task,  which  had  occupied  her  so  many  weeks,  was  ended. 
Not  a  button  to  sew  on,  not  a  string  to  fasten,  and 
so  Amy  unpinned  her  hair,  and  let  the  long  golden 
tresses  fall  over  her  shoulders.  "  How  proud  Maurice  is 
of  my  hair,"  and  she  gazed  at  it,  fondly,  as  a  thing  he 
had  loved.  After  arranging  it  in  his  favorite  style,  she 
proceeded  to  array  herself  in  a  brown  merino  dress,  and 
with  a  neat  collar,  fastened  by  a  brooch,  and  a  black  silk 
apron,  her  simple  toilet  was  completed. 

For  a  few  moments  she  sat  down  and  gave  herself  up 
to  the  enjoyment  of  her  own  thoughts.  She  rapidly  re- 
viewed her  acquaintance  with  Maurice.  He  had  been 
uniformly  respectful  and  kind  in  his  treatment  of  her, 
but  ohrfrom  the  time  when  he  first  told  her  his  love,  how 
freely  had  he  poured  out  his  affection.  He  had  been  the 
most  devoted  of  lovers,  the  very  kindest  of  husbands,  and 
the  young  wife  pressed  her  hands  to  her  bosom  as  she 
raised  her  heart  in  prayer  for  help  to  be  at  all  times  a 
loving,  faithful  wife.  Poor  Amy! 

Suddenly,  hearing  a  step  in  the  room  below,  she  start- 
ed up,  and  ran  quickly  down  the  stairs.  She  entered  the 
sitting-room,  and  cast  a  hurried  glance  around  ;  but  no 
one  was  there.  She  heard  the  voice  of  her  father  in  the 
kitchen,  and  concluded  the  step  must  have  been  his. 

"Well,  Amy,"  he  said,  pleasantly,  though  he  himself 
was  not  a  little  disappointed  at  the  non-arrival  of  his  son, 
"What  do  you  say  to  riding  down  to  farmer  Pond's  with 
me  ?  I  want  somebody  to  talk  with,  and  he'll  be  sure  to 


iN   DISGUISE.  423 

be  here  when  we  come  back.  But  as  long  as  you  and 
mother  sit  watching,  —  you  know  tha  old  adage,  '  A 
watched  pot '  " 

<;  Oh,  father,"  she  replied  earnestly,  raising  her  aerene, 
truthful  eyes  to  his  face,  "  I  couldn't  be  away." 

"Mother/'  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  turning  from  her  with 
a  sigh,  which  he  would  have  found  it  very  difficult  to  ac- 
count for  ;  "  can't  you  give  me  something  to  eat?  I  .'ost 
my  appetite  this  morning." 

Mrs.  Jenks  brought  from  the  pantry  a  large  mince 
turn-over,  and  hastily  pouring  out  some  cold  coffee, 
placed  it  before  him,  —  "  There,  eat  quick,"  said  she,  "  I 
want  to  clear  up,  and  not  have  dirty  dishes  standing 
round  when  company  is  expected." 

"  Company,  hey !  "  he  exclaimed,  laughing.  "  I  won- 
der if  I  should  go  away  two  or  three  months,  whether  I 
should  be  company  ?  Well,  I  must  be  going  along." 
But  still  he  lingered  and  looked  at  the  clock,  whose 
tardy  hands  seemed  reluctantly  to  approach  the  expected 
hour.  At  length,  it  strikes.  Now,  he  can't  go  until  the 
train  comes  in.  The  front  door  bell  rings  :  "  Oh,  dear ! " 
says  Mrs.  Jenks,  "  my  hands  are  all  flour."  Amy's  eyes 
plead,  "  I  had  rather  not  go  ; "  and  so  the  Doctor  went, 
and  let  in  a  woman  who  wanted  a  tooth  pulled.  Amy's 
heart  beat  now  faster  than  ever.  "  In  a  few  moments  he 
will  be  here." 

Again  the  bell  rings.  "  I'll  venture  that's  Maurice," 
exclaimed  the  mother,  "  ringing  the.  bell  to  surprise  us  ;" 
and  she  calls  to  the  Doctor,  who  leaves  his  patient  and 
admits  the  clergyman. 

•'  I  wonder  what  on  earth  he's  come  her*  for,  at  this 


424  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

hour, '  she  whispered  to  Arny,  after  listening  long  enough 
to  hear  the  voice  of  the  good  rector :  and  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  the  hospitable  woman  failed  to  give  her 
minister,  a  cordial  reception.  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  one 
grain,"  she  added,  to  her  daughter,  l'  if  the  saucy  fellow 
had  gone  round  the  back  way,  and  was  hiding  up  stairs 
now ;  'twould  be  just  like  hiui ; "  and  the  two  started 
off  on  their  survey.  Room  after  room  was  searched ; 
Amy  expecting  every  moment  to  have  her  husband 
ppring  from  some  corner,  and  clasp  her  in  his  strong 
arms. 

"  Come  out  here,  if  you're  hid,  Maurice,"  exclaimed 
the  mother,  with  some  indignation,  as  she  had,  so  far, 
been  balked  in  her  search.  But  even  while  she  was 
speaking,  the  voice  of  Dr.  Jenks  was  heard  at  the  stairs. 
*  Mother !  Amy  !  come  down." 

The  words  were  spoken  hoarsely,  wholly  unlike  his 
usually  kind  and  cheerful  voice  ;  but  he  was  instantly 
obeyed.  He  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  with  his 
arms  outstretched.  Amy  flew  down.  "  Where  is  he, 
father  ?  " 

"  Gone,  Amy  ;  gone,  child." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Doctor?"  almost  shrieked  Mrs. 
Jenks,  catching  hold  of  her  husband's  arm,  and  shaking 
it,  as  if  to  rouse  him  to  his  consciousness. 

"  Mother,"  he  ialtered,  staggering  back,  "  your  boy  lies 
at  the  bottom  of  the  sea."  With  one  wild  shriek,  the 
poor  young  widow  fell  senseless  to  the  floor. 

Perhaps  it  was  well  for  the  stricken  parents  that  their 
attention  was,  for  a  time,  diverted  from  their  own  grief 
oy  the  alarming  situation  of  their  daughter,  who  soon 


IN    DISGUISE.  425 

grew  dangerously  ill.  One  fainting  fit  succeeded  an- 
other. The  expression  of  utter  woe  upon  her  pallid 
countenance  causing  those  who  watched  over  her  to  feel 
that  it  was  almost  cruel  to  try  to  restore  her  to  con- 
sciousness. Before  night  another  physician  was  in  at- 
tendance, and  his  skill  was  eminently  necessary,  for  Dr. 
Jenks  could  hardly  be  roused  to  speak.  Early  in  the 
evening  he  retired  to  bed;  and  when,  shortly  after,  his 
wife  left  the  bedside  of  poor  Amy  to  attend  to  his  wants, 
she  found  him  in  a  fit.  The  shock  had  been  too  sudden 
for  the  doating  father,  and  for  a  time  he  sank  under  it. 

Dr.  Mason  was  still  in  the  house,  where  he  purposed 
remaining  through  the  night,  —  and  immediately  ap- 
plied the  most  powerful  remedies,  which  after  a  few 
hours  were  successful  in  restoring  him  to  consciousness, 
though  not  to  his  speech.  His  mouth  was  slightly  drawn 
down,  and  the  whole  of  his  left  side  paralyzed.  In  all 
her  experience,  Mrs.  Jenks  had  never  passed  such  a  night. 
Her  husband  lying  in  a  fit-from  which  he  might  never 
recover  ;  her  child,  Amy,  now  doubly  dear,  perhaps 
dying ;  and  all  this,  while  a  dreadful  weight  of  sorrow 
was  resting  upon  her,  and  crushing  her  to  the  earth. 

Mr.  Badger,  the  kind  rector,  who  had  for  so  many 
years  labored  side  by  side  with  Dr.  Jenks,  sat  with 
him  during  the  entire  night.  Toward  morning  he  called 
Mrs.  Jenks  from  the  room,  and  placed  in  her  hands  a 
letter  from  Captain  Bruce  directed  to  himself,  containing 
the  particulars  of  the  dreadful  event,  which  had  caused 
such  sudden  changes  in  their  once  happy  home.  It  was 
as  follows :  — 

36' 


4 -u  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

"  Rev.  Mr.  Badger  : 

"Respected  Sir, —  It  is  my  painful  duty  to  inform 
you  that  Maurice  Jeaks,  one  of  your  congregation,  who 
has  for  some  time  past  been  mate  on  board  the  '  William 
Bartlett'  is  no  more.  On  the  night  of  the  16th  of 
March,  a  violent  gale  arose,  during  which  our  vessel  was 
in  great  danger.  In  the  midst  of  the  dreadful  scene^ 
Maurice  was  perfectly  calm  and  self-possessed ;  and, 
after  one  of  the  sailors  had  in  vain  attempted  to  climb 
the  mast  to  let  down  a  sail,  he  sprang  quickly  up  to  the. 
top,  performed  the  task,  and  was  about  descending  when 
a  violent  lurch  of  the  vessel,  for  which  he  was  unpre- 
pared, caused  him  to  lose  his  hold,  and  he  was  precipi- 
tated into  the  sea.  The  fearful  cry, '  A  man  overboard! ' 
rang  out  on  the  night  air.  The  vessel  was  immediately 
put  about,  and  ropes  thrown  in  every  direction.  Indeed, 
when  it  was  discovered  who  was  the  missing  man,  it 
was  with  extreme  difficulty  that  I  could  restrain  the 
sympathizing  sailors  from  throwing  themselves  into  the 
water  to  rescue  him.  But  the  sea  was  rolling  moun- 
tain waves,  and  the  absolute  impossibility  of  a  man 
living  for  a  moment  in  it,  made  me  sternly  order  them 
back  to  their  duty,  though  my  heart  was  bleeding  at  the 
loss  I  had  sustained,  at  the  death  of  him  who  was  one 
of  the  best  mates  in  the  world,  and  whom  I  had  learned 
to  value  as  a  personal  friend. 

"  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  address  my  letter  to  you, 
sir,  from  the  kind  interest  our  lamented  friend  has  often 
assured  me  you  have  taken  in  his  welfare,  and  from  the 
belief  that  no  one  could  more  cautiously  or  tenderly 
announce  the  sad  tidings  to  the  afflicted  parents  and  the 


I.N     DISGUISE.  {_>/ 

bereaved  widow.  1  will  thank  you,  sir,  if  you  \\ ; 
such  time  as  you  may  deem  proper,  present  to  them  my 
most  earnest  sympathies  in  their  unspeakable  loss.  This 
I  shall  do  in  person  at  the  first  moment  I  can  leave  my 
vessel.  %  Unless  I  can  do  so  in  a  very  few  days,  I  shall 
send  the  effects  belonging  to  my  lamented  friend,  by 
boat,  to  Queenstown. 

"  With  sentiments  of  high  respect,  I  am,  sir,  your  truly 
sympathizing  friend, 

ANSUGL  G.  BRUCE." 

At  the  dreadful  announcement,  Amy  fell  into  a  swoon 
which  so  nearly  resembled  death  that  the  kind  neighbors 
and  friends  who  watched  over  her  scarcely  allowed 
themselves  to  hope  that  she  would  survive  until  morning. 
How  gladly  would  they  have  seen  tears  streaming  down 
her  cheeks !  But  no  ;  except  that  she  breathed,  there 
was  no  sign  of  life,  and  medicines  which,  under  other 
circumstances,  Dr.  Mason  would  have  used,  might  prove 
fatal. 

On  the  third  day  after  the  sad  intelligence  reached 
Queenstown,  Captain  Bruce  arrived.  He  was  deeply 
moved  as  he  heard  from  Mr.  Badger  an  account  of  the 
family.  The  rector  accompanied  him  to  the  dwelling, 
which  was  so  truly  a  house  of  mourning,  and  nad  the 
pleasure  to  witness  the  soothing  influence  of  the  cap- 
Tain's  presence  after  the  first  gush  of  fee/ing  had  sub- 
sided. Mrs.  Jenks  could  not,  however,  be  contented 
unk'Sii  her  poor  husband  could  also  hear  the  melancholy 
detail  from  the  lips  of  their  kind  and  sympathizing 
friend.  Dr.  Mason  was  consulted,  and  at  length  con- 


428  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

sented  to  it.  The  good  woman  knew  her  husband  io 
be  a  Christian,  and  that,  as  such  he  would  bow  sub 
missively  to  the  stroke  with  which  their  heavenly  Fat  lief 
had  visited  them. 

She  was  also  well  aware  that  evidence  the  captain 
was  able  to  give  with  regard  to  the  good  conduct  of 
Maurice  would  be  the  best  restorative.  And  so  it' really 
proved.  As  the  warm-hearted  seaman  sat  by  his  side, 
and  related  many  touching  incidents  which  had  occurred 
during  their  last  voyage,  together  ~vith  the  increasing 
fondness  the  young  man  had  exhibited  for  reading  the 
Scriptures,  tears  of  gratitude  rolled  down  the  furrowed 
cheek  of  the  stricken  father,  while  he  feebly  articulated 
the  words,  "  Lord  Jesus,  receive  the  thanks  of  a  poor, 
broken-hearted  father  for  thy  mercy  to  his  child." 

"  I  am  not  a  professor  of  religion,"  continued  Captain 
Bruce,  brushing  away  a  falling  tear ;  "  but  I  have  often 
wished  I  could  feel  as  your  son  did.  When  the  weather 
was  calm,  I  have  seen  him  gather  a  little  company  of 
sailors  around  him,  and  sit  down  in  a  retired  part  of  the 
vessel,  where  for  hours  he  read  to  them  from  the  Bible 
or  religious  tracts,  the  honest  tars  listening  with  open 
mouths,  as  if  for  their  lives.  I  had  the  curiosity  to 
question  one  of  them  to  see  if  they  really  learned  any 
thing,  or  if  it  were  merely  their  affection  for  the  young 
mate  which  induced  such  fixed  attention.  His  answer  J 
shall  never  forget. 

"  '  Jack,'  said  I,  '  when  Master  Jenks  is  reading,  can 
you  get  at  the  meaning?  ' 

"  '  Indeed  I  do,'  was  the  reply ;  'and  a  blessed  meaning 
there  is  when  it  tells  a  poor  fellow  who  all  his  life  long 


IN    DISGUISE.  429 

has  carried  a  terrible  load,  just  how  he  may  lay  it  down, 
and  get  clean  rid  of  it.' 

"  '  Well,  how  is  that  ?  '  I  asked. 

" '  That's  just  what  he  was  telling  us  last  Sunday. 
The  Saviour  died  to  take  our  sins.  That  is  the  load  I 
told  of.  When  Christ  suffered  so  much,  and  at  last  was 
nailed  to  the  cross  by  the  bloody  Jews,  all  to  get  leave 
to  take  away  our  burdens,  it  appears  to  me  disgracefully 
small  business,  not  to  let  him  have  the  pleasure  of  Joing 
it.  I,  for  one,  wont  cheat  him  nor  myself  any  longer ; 
ind  so  my  mind's  made  up.' 

"  Then  that  was  the  sermon  I  heard  him  preach,' 
said  I,  at  the  close. 

" '  Yes,  cap'n,'  he  repJed,  that's  the  substance.  In 
coorse  I  can't  be  expected  to  gin  it  off  as  he  did.' '' 

Many  more  incidents  were  related,  exhibiting  the 
influence  the  young  mate  exerted  on  board  the  vessel. 
These  proved  a  precious  balm  to  the  wounded  hearts  of 
his  parents.  For  themselves  they  felt  comforted ;  but 
poor  Arny !  For  a  few  hours  she  had  revived  to  a 
knowledge  that  a  calamity  had  befallen  her.  That  she 
connected  it  in  some  way  with  her  husband,  was  evi- 
dent from  the  fact  that,  whenever  addressed,  she  slowly 
unclosed  her  eyes,  and  feebly  whispered  his-name.  Some- 
times it  was,  "  Dear  Maurice,  how  long  a  time  you  have 
been  gone  !  "  and  then,  with  an  expression  of  fear,  "  Oh, 
Maurice,  don't  leave  me  again  !  " 

Dr.  Mason,  after  consulting  Mrs.  Jenks.  proposed  to 
Captain  Bruce  to  visit  his  patient  in  the  hope  of  arous- 
ing hei  ;  and  this  the  kind-hearted  man  was  earnest  to 
do.  Indeed,  he  had  hoped  to  see  one  so  intimately 


430  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

connected  with  his  deceased  friend,  and  who  had  exerted 
so  salutary  an  influence  upon  him,  for  Maurice  had  often 
attributed  the  change  in  his  religious  feelings  as,  under 
God,  owing  to  her  consistent  example  and  earnest  piety. 
The  anxious  physician  conducted  him  to  her  room,  where 
*he  lay  pale  and  motionless.  She  so  nearly  resembled 
death,  that,  with  a  sudden  start,  he  bent  over  her  to 
listen  if  she  breathed.  Becoming  aware  that  some  one 
was  near  her,  poor  Amy  quickly  opened  her  eyes,  and, 
was  near  her,  poor  Amy  quickly  opened  her  eyes,  and, 
with  an  appealing  expression,  \yhich  brought  many  tears 
from  the  sympathizing  man,  whispered,  "  Maurice ! 
Has  my  Maurice  corne  ?  "  Putting  his  handkerchief  to 
his  eyes,  Captain  Bruce  hurried  from  the  room  ;  and  he 
afterwards  remarked  that  he  had  rather  meet  the  stifFest 
gale  off  Cape  Horn  than  such  a  look  of  intense  woe  as 
accompanied  her  whispered  question. 

From  this  time,  however,  she  slowly  gained  strength. 
until  she  was  able  to  sit  up  most  of  the  day ;  but  her 
mind  was  wandering,  and  her  language  often  wild  and 
incoheient.  Sometimes  the  sight  of  any  article  of  cloth- 
ing which  had  belonged  to  her  husband  produced  violent 
agitation,  and  she  would  tremble  excessively ;  but  no 
tears  relieved  her  until  a  little  Maurice  came  to  fill  the 
place  in  her  heart  rendered  desolate  by  the  loss  she  had 
sustained.  In  the  warm  and  earnest  love  which  welled 
up  within  her  breast  at  the  sight  of  the  little  stranger, 
she  learned  to  thank  God  that  he  had  allowed  her  even 
the  memory  of  her  dear  Maurice,  and  also  for  the  sweet 
babe  as  a  precious  token  of  his  love.  She  devoted  her- 
self to  the  training  of  her  child  ;  and  when,  in  after 
years,  the  estates  which  had  been  so  unrighteously  taken 


IN    DISGUISE.  431 

from  his  mother  were  restored  to  him,  and  he  accompa 
nied  her  to  Scotland,  and  took  a  high  station  in  society, 
he   aimed   so  to   live  that   he  might  honor  his  beloved 
father,  and  spend  an  eternity  with  him  in  heaven. 

The  good  doctor  partially  recovered  the  use  of  hia 
paralyzed  limbs,  and  rode  about  as  of  old  among  hia 
patients.  He  sat  for  hours  talking  to  those  who  had 
known  and  loved  his  son,  repeating  over  and  over  again 
the  anecdotes  related  by  Captain  Bruce,  and  showing  a 
small  pocket  Bible  that  Maurice  had  always  carried 
about  him,  with  such  passages  underscored  as  he  thought 
would  be  adapted  to  interest  and  profit  the  crew.  But 
if,  at  any  time,  his  patients  applied  to  him  for  medicine, 
he  invariably  sent  them  to  Dr.  Mason,  having  lost  all 
confidence  in  his  own  skill. 

The  kindness  he  had  shown  to  the  poor  and  destitute 
proved  eminently,  in  his  case,  like  bread  cast  upon  the 
water,  which  he  found  after  many  days.  Scarcely  a  day 
passed  without  some  token,  slight  it  might  be,  but  no 
less  grateful  to  him,  of  the  affectionate  remembrance  in 
which  he  was  held  by  his  former  patients  and  the  whole 
community,  and  also  of  their  warm  sympathies  wilh  his 
family  in  their  bereavement.  Mrs.  Jenks  even  com- 
plained that  she  should  lose  her  skill  in  cooking,  so  little 
occasion  did  she  find  to  practise  her  favorite  art. 

Among  the  numerous  houses  where  the  old  gentleman 
was  at  all  times  a  welcome  visitor,  there  were  no  two 
places  in  which  he  so  delighted  as  Linden  wood  and  the 
vine-covered  residence  of  his  aged  pastor,  whose  kind- 
ness during  his  season  of  deepest  trial  neither  he  nor  his 
family  ever  forgot. 


432  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGKL. 

At  Lindenwood,  the  old  gentleman  always  found  his 
•vay  up  to  the  nursery,  being  the  same  room  where  his 
little  favorite  Louis  had  breathed  out  his  soul  to  God, 
and  which  was  now  newly  furnished  for  the  use  of 
Master  Stephen.  The  young  mother  feared  that  her 
uncle,  being  unused  to  children,  might  become  wearied 
with  his  noise,  and  be  under  the  necessity  of  abandon- 
ing the  pleasant  room  he  occupied  with  them.  But  she 
was  wholly  mistaken.  Day  after  day  he  sat  in  the  nur- 
sery amusing  himself  with  his  little  namesake,  who  soon 
learned  to  call  after  him,  if  he  left  the  room ;  and  almoai 
daily  Dr.  Jenks  might  be  seen  there  with  him. 


CHAPTER     XXXV. 

% 

"  There  is  no  man  that  hath  left  house,  or  brethren,  or  sisters,  or  father. 
tt  mother,  or  lands,  for  my  sake,  and  the  gospel's  ;  but  he  shall  receive  an 
iundrod  fold  now  in  this  time,  and,  in  the  world  to  come,  life  everlasting." 

Our  Saviour. 

THE  visit  of  Edith  to  Mrs.  Henderson  was  protracted 
far  beyond  her  expectation.  After  consulting  some  gen- 
tlemen who  had  been  for  many  years  connected  with  the 
cause  of  missions,  and  finding  them  agreed  in  the  opin- 
ion that  every  missionary  ought  to  know  something  of 
medicine  more  than  the  hearing  of  a  few  lectures,  Mr. 
Huntington  determined  to  prolong  his  stay  in  Philadel- 
phia until  spring,  and  then  go  to  Boston  and  pursue  the 
study  there  for  a  few  months,  with  a  reference  to  visiting 
the  hospitals  ;  so  that  it  was  not  until  the  latter  part  of 
May  that  Edith  returned  with  him  to  the  north,  and 
made  her  long-promised  visit  to  Emma.  She  was  re- 
ceived with  the  greatest  cordiality,  not  only  by  her  sister 
and  Professor  Fowler,  but  by  his  mother,  who  was  visit- 
ing them.  The  old  lady  said  she  wanted  to  take  right 
home  to  her  heart  all  who  loved  her  darter  Emma,  whom 
she  could  never  sufficiently  praise.  "  Her  son,"  she  said, 
"  was  entirely  altered  for  the  better,  and  now  much  re- 
sembled the  Perkinses,"  and  that  "  she  felt  as  much  at 
ease  with  him  as  she  did  with  his  lovely  wife." 

The  first  week  in  July  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stanley  arrived, 
and  after  a  pleasant  visit,  with  their  daughter,  Mrs.  Fow 

37  433 


-134  TITE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

ler,  Edith  relumed  with  them  to  Lindenwood.  In  all 
her  visiting  Ker  heart  had-  been  in  her  studies,  and  her 
desire  to  prepare  herself  for  usefulness  among  the  people, 
with  whom  she  had  chosen  to  dwell,  had  daily  and  hourly 
increased.  She  astonished  even  Uncle  Stephen,  who  had 
an  exalted  idea  of  her  capabilities,  by  the  'progress  shu 
had  made.  She  told  him  she  had  never  realized  how 
good  and  patient  a  teacher  he  had  been,  until  obliged  to 
depend  upon  herself. 

September  was  the  month  now  fixed  upon  for  sailing, 
and  every  day  brought  new  duties  and  cares,  in  the  way 
of  preparation  for  the  important  voyage.  One  morning, 
toward  the  latter  part  of  August,  a  ooramittee  of  ladies 
from  the  village  called  at  the  Hall,  with  a  box  about 
three  feet  square,  which  had  been  presented  to  the  young 
missionary  by  her  friends,  as  a  token  of  their  interest  in 
the  cause  to  which  she  had  devoted  her  life.  A  letter 
accompanied  it,  requesting  that  she  would  not  open  the 
box  until  her  arrival  at  her  own  station. 

The  ladies  also  expressed  an  earnest  wish  that  Edith 
and  Mr.  Huntington  should  attend  the  Missionary  Soci- 
ety in  the  village  before  their  departure,  which  they  would 
appoint  at  any  time  to  suit  the  convenience  of  the  mis- 
sionaries. 

Edith  promised  compliance,  and  accepted  their  invita- 
tion-the  following  week,  where  she  met  more  than  a  hun- 
dred ladies  and  gentlemen  who  hud  assembled  to  bid 
them  farewell.  The  kind  ladies  led  Edith  into  a  back 
room,  where,  neatly  folded,  and  ready  for  use,  was  a 
generous  supply  of  shirts,  flannels,  and  hose,  for  Mr 
Huntington,  rr  ade  and  presented  him  by  the  ladies  of 


IN  DISGUISE.  430 

the  society.  Edith  was  much  affei.ted  by  their  kindness, 
but  said  she  must  call  her  friend  to  speak  for  himself, 
which  he  did  with  great  feeling,  until  there  was-  not  a 
dry  eye  among  them. 

J*  was  the  wish  of  Uncle  Stephen  that  Alfred  should 
be  set  apart  for  his  work  in  the  church  under  the  care  of 
their  esteemed  pastor,  Mr.  Badger,  and  gn  at  was  the 
pleasure  manifested  when  the  fact  became  known.  It 
was  truly  a  memorable  occasion  for  Queenstown,  and 
such  as  had  never  occurred  there  before.  In  the  rnidst 
of  all  her  cares,  Edith  did  not  forget  her  humble  friends 
at  the  farm,  and,  with  the  permission  of  Mrs.  Stanley, 
invited  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Goodwin  to  come  to  the  exercises, 
and  to  bring  with  them  her  little  namesake. 

The  eventful  morning  at  length  arrived.  Alfred  and 
Edith  met  by  appointment  at  an  early  hour,  to  ask  to- 
gether the  blessing  of  their  heavenly  Father,  upon  a  day 
fraught  with  so  much  interest  to  them.  They  were  to 
be  married  in  church  at  nine  o'clock.  After  this  the  pub- 
lic services  of  the  occasion  were  to  commence.  When 
the  family,  together  with  a  large  number  of  friends,  met  at 
the  breakfast-table,  none  were  so  calm  and  cheerful  as  the 
ones,  who,  for  Christ's  sake,  were  in  two  days  to  leave 
friends,  country,  and  home.  Uncle  Stephen,  whose  pale 
countenance  showed  that  he  had  passed  a  sleepless  night, 
wept  aloud,  and  when  the  young  clergyman,  whom  he 
had  educated  in  the  very  hope  that  this  blessed  event 
might  come  to  pass,  led  him  to  the  parlor,  and  tried  to 
sooihe  his  agitated  feelings,  the  good  old  man  sobbed 
our.  "  Oh,  what  am  I,  that  C-Jod  should  have  thus  an- 
swered my  prayers,  and  made  me  the  unworthy  instru- 


430  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

ment  of  sending  a  missionary  to  the  poor  heathen !  1\ 
humbles  me  to  the  dust  to  think  how  little  faith  1  have 
had  that  he  would  order  this  event,  so  that  I  should  live 
to  see  this  day." 

It  was  not  until  that  long-to-be-remembered  interview 
that  Alfred  became  aware  how  earnestly  his  kind  bene- 
factor had  wrestled  in  prayer  for  him,  that  his  heart 
might  be  turned  to  this  great  work  ;  nor  with  what 
solicitude  he  had  watched  his  course,  and  how  at  one 
time,  when  the  young  student  wished  to  study  law,  he 
had  again  sought  the  throne  of  grace,  and  with  tears 
had  plead  that,  if  it  was  the  will  of  God  to  deprive  him 
of  the  glorious  privilege  of  fitting  him  for  the  work  of  a 
missionary,  another  might  be  raised  up ;  nor  how  se- 
verely his  faith  had  been  tried  by  the  ardent  affection 
Alfred  had  exhibited  for  Edith,  who  at  that  time  was 
very  un suited  to  be  the  wife  of  a  missionary.  Now," 
added  Uncle  Stephen,  with  a  fresh  burst  of  tears,  "  during 
the  long  night  I  lay  and  thought  of  all  the  way  the  Lord 
had  led  you  and  your  chosen  companion,  to  fit  you  for 
your  great  work.  I,  in  my  feebleness,  thought  money 
could  do  it ;  but  he  saw  more  grace  was  needed.  He 
sent  you  trials,  and  I  trust  they  have  been  sanctified. 
But  I  can  never  sufficiently  thank  him  for  the  favor 
shown  to  me,  a  poor,  sinful  creature." 

At  eight  o'clock,  the  church  was  crowded  to  over- 
flowing, so  eager  were  all  for  admittance ;  and,  had  it 
not  been  that  special  seats  had  been  reserved  for  Mr 
Stanley's  family,  they  would  hardly  have  been  able  to 
gain  admittance.  Notwithstanding  the  aisles  and  even 
the  large  porch  were  crowded,  the  ticking  of  the  clock 


IN    DISGUISE. 

in  (he  orchestra  could  be  distinctly  heard,  as  Mr.  Badger 
addressed  the  bridal  pair,  and  the  solemn  responses  were 
uttered  which  united  them  for  life.  When  they  knelt 
before  their  pastor  to  receive  his  blessing,  weeping  and 
Bobbing  were  heard  on  every  side. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Huntington  returned  to  their  seats,  and, 
after  a  short  pause,  a  young  clergyman  arose  and  read 
the  prater.  The  bishop,  who  had  for  years  been  a  warm 
friend  to  the  cause  of  missions,  and  a  zealous  promoter 
of  the  missionary  spirit  in  his  diocese,  preached  the 
sermon,  and  set  apart  the  young  missionary  to  his  work. 
The  services  were  in  the  highest  degree  solemn  and 
impressive  ;  and  when,  at  the  close  of  them,  the  friends 
of  Edith  crowded  around  to  bid  them  farewell,  there 
were  not  a  few  who  considered  their  condition  as  one  to 
be  envied,  rather  than  deplored,  as  they  had  heretofore 
thought. 

In  the  afternoon,  Emma,  who,  with  her  husband,  was 
at  home,  came  to  the  nursery,  where  Edith  had  retired 
for  a  few  moments  to  sit  with  Alice,  and  informed  her 
that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Goodwin  were  awaiting  her.  She 
started  at  once  to  go  to  them,  but  at  length  concluded 
to  send  for  them  to  join  her,  as  they  would  not  feel  easy 
in  so  large  a  company  as  were  gathered  in  the  parlor. 
Little  Edith  could  now  walk  about,  and  was  really  an 
engaging  child.  Stephen  Sydney,  after  some  coaxing, 
left  Uncle  Stephen  to  get  upon  the  floor,  and  show  the 
little  girl  his  toys. 

"  That's  a  fine  fellow,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  nod- 
ding his  head  with  pride  at  his  namesake's  generosity; 
"that's  my  noble  boy,"  as  the  child  took  cue  thi'ig  after 
37' 


438  THE    HOUSEHOLD    ANGEL 

another  from  his  basket,  and  placed  them  in  the  lap  ol 
the  little  girl,  all  the  while  prattling  to  himself,  while  she 
gazed  first  at  him,  and  then  at  the  wonderful  sight 
before  her,  but  could  not  venture  to  speak  a  word. 

Edith  found  her  good  friends  had  come  over  early  in 
the  morning,  and  attended  the  services  in  the  church,  but 
had  hesitated  to  intrude  themselves  at  a  time  when  they 
knew  there  were  many  who  had  more  claim  upon  her 
attention.  She  sent  to  the  parlor  for  her  husband,  when 
both  Joshua  and  his  wife  were  much  affected  at  parting 
from  them.  When  Edith  took  the  little  girl  in  her  arms 
to  kiss  her  and  bid  her  adieu,  she  threw  over  her  neck  a 
chain  of  gold,  attached  to  which  was  a  locket  containing 
a  small  miniature  of  herself,  painted  by  her  mother,  with 
her  own  hair  and  that  of  her  husband  inserted  in  the 
back. 

How  many  times,  in  the  course  of  the  next  year,  the 
event  was  related  to  admiring  friends,  by  both  Mrs. 
Goodwin  and  her  husband,  and  the  locket  exhibited,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  say. 

The  next  morning,  Mr.  and  M/s.  Huntington,  accom- 
panied by  Uncle  Stephen,  Rev.  Mr.  Badger,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Stanley,  Gertrude,  Emma,  and  Alice,  with  their 
husbands,  started  for  New  York,  from  which  port  they 
were  to  sail  the  following  day.  The  baggage  having  oeen 
safely  seen  on  board  ship,  the  whole  party  accompanied 
Edith  to  the  vessel,  to  take  a  view  of  her  accommoda- 
tions. And  here  the  knowledge  of  Uncle  Stephen  was 
invaluable ;  for,  though  Edith  declared  the  arrangements 
to  be  complete,  yet  he  perceived  quite  a  number  of  arti- 
cles which  he  pronounced  absolutely  necessary,  and 


r\  DISGUISK. 

ordered  them  to  be  bought  forthwith.  They  ther.  re- 
turned to  the  hotel,  to  pass  together  one  more  evening 
before  they  should  be  separated  forever  in  this  world. 

Correspondence  was  planned,  advice  given,  and  many 
sentiments  of  undying  affection  exchanged,  when  the 
evening  was  closed  with  prayer  by  their  aged  pastor. 

"When  they  were  about  to  retire,  all  were  impressed 
with  the  holy  calmness  which  had  settled  upon  the  brow 
of  the  young  missionary.  Her  whole  soul  seemed  to  be 
elevated  by  the  greatness  of  the  work  which  she  had 
undertaken.  Could  this  be  the  Edith  whom  we  first 
introduced  to  the  reader?  Yes,  the  very  same,  but  with 
a  heart  purified  by  affliction,  sanctified  by  divine  grace, 
and  elevated  by  close  communion  with  her  heavenly 
Father. 

The  vessel  was  advertised  to  sail  at  ten  o'clock.  At 
nine  the  family  from  Lindenwood  (including  little  Ste- 
phen and  his  "ayah,"  as  the  old  man  persisted  in  calling 
her)  went  on  board.  The  few  articles  which  they  brought 
with  tl.era  from  the  hotel  are  soon  in  the  allotted  places. 
The  books  which  Edith  and  her  husband  wish  to  use  on 
the  voyage  are  taken  from  a  trunk  below,  and  placed  in 
a  locker  in  their  cabin.  Jars  of  pickled  limes  and  other 
articles  are  ranged  in  rows,  and  confined  to  keep  them 
in  place.  Then  they  return  to  the  deck,  where  Uncle 
Stephen  has  a  short,  earnest  consultation  with  the  cap- 
tain, and  Alice  sees  him  put  something  which  very  much 
resembles  a  bank-bill  inio  the  good  captain's  hand,  who 
decidedly  refuses  to  keep  it  until  something  more  is  said 
by  Uncle  Stephen.  All  is  now  ready.  The  sailors  stand 
at  their  post.  Suddenly  they  doff  their  caps,  and  stand 


440  THE     HOUSEHOLD    ANGK1,. 

reverently,  while  the  white-haired  minister  commits  his 
beloved  charge  to  the  care  of  Him  who  holds  the  waters 
in  his  hand.  The  prayer  is  ended.  The  sailors  are  only 
waiting  the  command  of  their  captain  to  begin  their 
hearty  song  of  "  Ho,  heave  ho !  "  The  parting  kiss  is 
given,  the  last  whispered  word  of  love  or  counsel ;  and. 
amidst  smiles  of  hope  on  the  part  of  the  dear  ones  who 
will  soon  be  far  away,  and  tears  of  sorrow  from  those 
who  are  to  lose  them,  the  final  separation  takes  place. 
The  party  of  friends  descend  to  the  wharf,  where  they 
try  to  suppress  their  grief,  that  they  may  not  lose  one 
look  of  the  two  who  stand  clasping  each  other  by  the 
hand,  and  leaning  over  the  side  of  the  railing. 

And  now  the  honest  ters  begin  their  work.  The 
gallant  ship  is  loosed  from  the  wharf;  and,  amidst  a 
hundred  cheers  from  the  shore  and  the  vessels  lying  at 
the  wharf,  which  are  heartily  reechoed,  the  noble  bark 
glides  on  her  wray. 

With  bursting  hearts,  the  weeping  friends  incline  for- 
ward for  one  more  look.  Yes,  that  is  Edith.  She  wave* 
her  handkerchief,  and  points  heavenward  ! 


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THE  AMERICAN 

DIAMOND 

DICTIONARY 

OF   TBK 

ENGLISH    LANGUAGE. 

All  the  latest  emendations  in  Spelling,  Pronunciation,  and 

Definition,    from    the    greatest    modern 

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Contains  hundreds  of  new  vrords,  such  as  are  used  daily  in  speech 
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Contains  fall  explanations  of  all  the  abbreviations  used  in 
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Has  an  alphabetical  list  of  foreign  word*  and  phrases  used  as 
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